Burning Bright: The Rewrite
by 2NYwLove
Summary: Sequel to Strike a Match. Can Cailin and Clarke find peace when their world keeps exploding around them literally and figuratively? A rewrite to match future Chicago Med storyline, but still AU in nature (Shay lives)! Original version can be found over on WattPad. Clarke/OC
1. Like a House on Fire

**Chapter One: Like a House on Fire**

Cailin pulled herself reluctantly away from Jeff; turning back to where Matt was still kneeling in front of Gabby, as the intercom crackled to life.

"Are you kidding me?" Cailin yelped as the call came in. "Did she answer? I don't think she answered," she grumbled, "stupid fires."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh at her chagrin. "Sounds like it is just a scrap fire. I am sure they will be back soon enough, trying to steal the Chief and Donna's thunder. In the meantime, more cake for us," he joked.

"Good, because otherwise I am sure Mouch would have devoured it all!" She smiled up at him, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek before they moved out of the way, knowing the intricate ballet that was about to happen. She let out a groan, "total Chief move, Boden."

"What's that, babe?" Clarke asked after plucking a piece fabric off the Squad truck.

"Boden is going with them, apparently he missed the memo on it being his wedding day," she said, shaking her head until she saw Donna. "Except she seems cool with it, so who am I to judge?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Clarke smirked, trying and failing to remove the fabric from the ladder truck before it drove away.

"It feels really weird to not drink at a wedding," Cailin remarked as they sat at a table after helping 51 take off.

Clarke gave her a smile, "maybe your family would be welcome at more places around town if-oof," he cut off as she playfully punched him. "Nice left hook, de la Hoya. Guess your shoulder is all healed, huh?"

"We shall see," she said, ignoring the twinge of pain she felt overextending it. "Still have to re-qualify and find a department to take me."

She looked so downcast that Clarke pointed over to the table where the bride was sitting with Hermann's wife, Detective Lindsay and the barely recognizable Desk Sergeant from the 2-1. "Why don't you go sit with the cool kids? I think they are passing around a bottle."

Cailin followed his finger, part of her wanting to go join in with the other women, but something stopped her. Moments with Jeff feeling somehow more precious. But, Voight did say he would be willing to give her a chance because of Erin's seal of approval...she was debating what to do when she heard the uptick in radio chatter. Her heart rate increasing before her ears even knew what was happening. It thudded even harder as she watched Connie rush over to adjust the volume.

_"Mayday emergency, mayday emergency, house 51 not reporting. Building explosion at 5929 South State Street. Request back up from all available houses. Hazmat hold for instruction, potential chemical hazard on scene."_

Clarke and Cailin's eyes met and grew wide, both of them accustomed to always, at least subconsciously, being attuned to radio chatter. Able to hear it when the civilian guests, including the bride, could not. Cailin nodded at Clarke, who already heading for the gear room, knowing his pre-Lieutenant bunker kit still sat inside. She looked over at the table of women, not knowing who had realized what was happening, catching Cindy's panicked filled eyes as she dumped out her purse, searching for her keys. She could tell the woman was trying to not outwardly emote, just like she could also tell the astute Erin had picked up that something was wrong. Cailin strode to the table, her jaw and shoulders set.

"Cindy, why don't you give Trudy here the keys to your minivan," Cailin said, her voice calm, but clearly an order.

"She's barely had a sip," Donna protested, though her voice wavered as she could feel the change in the air.

"Sergeant Platt, why don't you hold on to those for a while, take the women back into the quarters," Erin suggested, gesturing with her head toward the intercom, now incessantly squawking like an injured bird. Platt caught on immediately, taking the keys from a now shaking Cindy and ushering the two women towards the multipurpose room.

Erin and Cailin looked at each other for a long beat, wondering what their roles were in this situation. Cailin felt for Erin, Kelly Severide already out on the call, in a building that had exploded. She spied Clarke out of the corner of her eye; his turnout kit clutched against his more formal clothing made for a stark contrast.

_"Affirmative, send hazmat, chemical spill at 5929 South State. Possible meth lab explosion. Requesting additional ambulances as well, 51 still not reporting. Nearest non-active engine is in route."_

The words 'meth lab' had Erin pulling out her phone, detective trumping girlfriend. "I'm calling it in," she said, her tone pure steel even as her eyes clouded with worry.

"Fine, but do it from the car, I'm taking us over," Cailin said, taking the keys Clarke handed to her in one hand as she pulled her badge from her bag with the other.

Cailin screeched up, over half a block down and across the street from where the trucks had parked; not even getting the car in park before Clarke was already hopping out. "Damn it, Jeff" she swore, shaking her head as Erin followed suit.

She carefully made her way through the debris littering the landscape, cursing her heels and sundress for impeding her movement. Erin was having the same struggle, not having made it much further ahead.

They both stopped, staring up at the building and surrounding area. It looked like a bomb had gone off, mostly because one had. A giant, toxic, homemade bomb.

Cailin felt her blood turn to ice, but shook it off. Where the hell was Jeff? She caught sight of him, next to Chief Boden and the red SUV. The man bleeding from a cut on his head, covered in ash, a radio gripped so tightly in his palms they had turned pink. The relief chief standing dazedly next to him, shaking his head like he was trying to clear water from his ears.

"THOUGHT IT WAS JUST BECAUSE OF THE CONCRETE AND THEN BOOM, TOP FLOOR BLEW OUT!" the relief chief yelled, not knowing he was doing so.

Cailin charged forward, not realizing she was leaving Detective Lindsay rooted to the spot, just as Clarke was about to jog to the building. "Back-up," Boden croaked, not sounding at all like his usually formidable self. "Wait for back-up," he said, trying desperately to clear his throat.

Cailin spied a bottle of water in the front seat of the SUV, retrieving it and twisting the cap off. "Drink," she said, handing it to him, "agreed," she said, glaring at Clarke.

"Cally, I have to-" Clarke started to say, cut off by the approaching siren. Firefighters were hopping off the engine while it was still rolling, springing immediately into action, Clarke joining in with them as though he were part of their crew.

She clenched her jaw, making the sign of the cross. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Erin practically get mowed down by an approaching ambulance. Cally knew shock had taken over the normally tough-as-nails detective. She traversed back through the debris field back to the car, digging through the trunk. Thankful she hadn't cleaned out her gym clothes from PT. She slipped them on, grabbing extras for Erin. "Hope you have elf feet, Detective," she said tossing the pile at the other woman.

This was enough to at least temporarily kick Erin out of reverie. "You really don't have any clothes actually in your closet, do you, Callahan?" she said, a grim smile on her face as she hastily changed.

It hadn't been more than a couple of minutes, but the scene was already flooded with the next wave of first responders and more than a few looky-loos. Both Cailin and Erin looked around, torn between their training telling them to do crowd control and their emotions wanting an update on the whereabouts of 51.

"Tell Severide to get his and Squad's ass back down here," Boden was barking into a radio, sounding authoritative enough to make both Erin and Cally smile with relief.

A most welcome sight greeted Cailin as she scanned the crowd, that of Gabby and Shay making their way over to 61, slowly, but in one piece. Her heart beating out her profession as she rushed toward her friends. "Gabby, Leslie, thank God," she said, jogging over. "You all right?"

Shay nodded, already pulling out an elastic bandage and wrapping it around Gabby's wrist. "Blast knocked us on our asses, but we're good," she said, panting slightly, looking a bit pale.

Cailin nodded, reaching for a butterfly bandage for the bleeding cut on Gabby's temple. "Your wrist okay, Gabs?"

Gabby nodded, "This one jumped on top of me. So what, I pass my firefighter test so you want to take over my spot on 61 as a paramedic, Callahan?"

"Pretty sure Clarke already called dibs on Shay," Cailin shot back, wiping off the cut and placing the bandage over it. Both women gave a chuckle, looking at Shay, who merely grimaced, continuing to pull out triage supplies.

"Matt!" Gabby said, coming to the realization her significant other had gone in the building before her.

"I don't know, Clarke went in with the crew that got here the same time we pulled up," Cailin said, looking up at the building, before realizing Gabby's eyes were glazing over.

"All right, Dawson, let's get you out of that bunker jacket, you too, Shay," Cailin said, helping Gabby out of her coat, trying to get the women more air.

Shay shook her head, heading to the supplies, "I'm going to go check on the Chief," Shay said, grabbing a kit and heading toward the SUV.

Cailin watched as Boden tried to brush Shay off, the blonde forcing him to sit on the curb and be checked out. She watched as Erin transformed firmly back into Detective Lindsay, ordering the crowd to back up, flashing her badge and all but growling. Cailin turned her head back to the building, a hive of buzzing activity with hoses being run, ladders being raised and firefighters dashing to and fro.

It was hard to keep track of everything, until she saw familiar faces start to emerge from the wreckage: a limping Mouch, cradling his shoulder followed by Hermann and Clarke carrying a larger form, between them. "Anyone ever tell you to cut back on the carbs, Cruz?" Hermann was yelling as he and Clarke maneuvered the man to a waiting ambo, his leg clearly broken.

Cally made a face, but pulled herself together as she saw Gabby rush toward the group, yelling for Matt. "Piece of crap staircase came down as soon as the building shook," Hermann said, "Casey and Otis were already down in the basement, Truck 36 is roping them up now. We stopped for some drunk as a skunk homeless guy when it gave out. We had to pull tons of fun here from where he was dangling."

"Which is how I tweaked my shoulder," Mouch said.

"How did Cruz break his leg then?" Cailin asked as Gabby wavered with relief, Clarke reaching out to steady her.

"Homeless guy came to swinging a stickball bat," Cruz said through gritted teeth, "and I am not fat, I'm big-"

His statement cut off by another blast, two more floors of the building exploding outward, a fireball following. This set off another flurry of activity, Clarke and Hermann jumping back into action and turning back toward the building.

"Don't be too much of a cowboy in there, Jeff," Cailin warned, catching the hem of his turnout coat before he could run back into the building.

He turned, giving her a quick kiss; harkening back to the scene where he had rescued her, "not my first rodeo, babe," he said, before putting his mask and helmet on and charging toward the building.

Cailin realized Erin had made her way around the perimeter and was standing next to her. "You're just going to let him go back in there?" she asked, shaking like a leaf, looking incredibly pale.

"He has to go, Erin. How many times do we have to go into the undercover equivalent of a burning building?" Cally replied, before realizing that the woman wasn't able to focus on her; a look she had seen on her own face more than once. Detective Lindsay was in the firm grip of a panic attack.

"Jeff is going in there because he is one of the best and he is not going to leave one of his own behind. Kelly is one of his own," Cally said before gently reaching out and lightly putting a hand on the other woman's shoulders. She found herself echoing the words Jeff had used with her. "Everything is going to be fine, you just have to let yourself breathe. That's it. Nice and easy, slow breaths, stop thinking about it, it's a reflex, remember?"

Erin finally caught her breath, gulping greedily at the oxygen, wrenching herself out of Cailin's grasp. "I'm fine," she snapped, not wanting to admit to how close she had come to fainting. Cops didn't faint. She sure as hell didn't faint.

Cailin gave her a look that told her she wasn't fooled for a second, but there was also something so empathetic in the woman's blue eyes, Erin felt herself soften just the slightest bit until terror caught her in its vice-grip once again.

Catching the fear creep back up into Erin's eyes made Cally even more grateful for the arrival of Voight and Halstead, Dawson with them. "Come on," she said, trying to not drag Erin with her in the direction of the other IU detectives. She gave Halstead a look, before raising her eyebrows at Voight and jerking her head in Erin's direction. She could tell the other woman was desperately trying to keep it together, put on her usual tough face. Cally was perfectly aware of how much energy that took, how easily the façade could crumble. Like it was threatening to do with Antonio Dawson.

"Gabby's fine. She's over by 61. She and Shay are refusing to budge, they walked out on their own," Cailin explained, wondering how she was managing to hold it together before realizing she had once again managed to separate herself completely from her emotions. It would catch up to her later, but for now the silent serpent of PTSD was actually slithering in her favor for once.

Everything seemed to speed up as the newest fireball raced through the building, noxious smoke pouring out of every window, filling the street with its burning toxicity. Cailin felt her eyes burning, knowing the myriad of chemicals that went into making meth were now being unleashed into the atmosphere. It was then Hermann and another firefighter emerged, carrying out one of their own. But unlike Joe Cruz, this figure wasn't joking with his rescuers; this one was gasping like a fish out of water between the two men trying to carry him to safety. It took Cailin a moment to recognize who it was, and when she did, her heart stopped.

"Crap. Matt! We need a medic over here, stat!" she bellowed, taking in her friend more collapsing than being sat down.

The paramedics swarmed, jumping into action and shoving them out-of-the-way. Cailin looked from face to face to see if Gabby was one of them. She wasn't, but a very pale and shaking Shay was. "I got this," she said to Cailin before turning to bark orders at her fellow paramedic. "Get him on the ambo now. Call ahead to Lakeshore; tell them we need the best pulmo doc in all of Chicago. Cally, get Antonio to have Gabby meet us there."

Before she could even nod in compliance, Shay was already following the stretcher into the ambulance, trying not to wince in pain. Cailin took a halting breath, forcing herself to focus on calmly telling her friend her maybe fiancée was on his way to Lakeshore. In between wrangling Antonio and gently breaking the news to Gabby, Cally missed another familiar figure also being carried out the building until her eyes met Clarke's over another stretcher.

"We got you, buddy, you're going to be fine and you can play me all the pod-things you want," Hermann was saying, gripping the hand of Otis, his leg at an unnatural angle. Brian, Cailin corrected in her head, injured in the line of duty, she should respect him enough to call him by his name. "Can you call Cindy and tell her to meet me at Lakeshore, I'm going with him," he said, looking grave.

"Will do," Cailin said, pulling out her phone, though she didn't dial, looking at Clarke, who was wiping off his sweaty, smoke-covered face. "What happened to Matt, Jeff?"

"They were pulling him up when the second blast happened, knocked his mask off and they pulled him right through the fire ball. He's got at least second degree burns and took a lungful of whatever the hell is in that," he replied, gesturing to the ominous cloud hovering over them.

"Crap. What about Squad?" she asked, looking around for Erin, who was deep in conversation with Voight and the rest of the assembled IU.

"Trapped between floors. Apparently there were multiple labs; main one was up top, the first to blow. They can't get up to the roof without going through hell and the staircase is gone below them. They are working on getting ladders inside and up now," Clarke said.

The pair stood, looking up at the building, frozen as they saw the smoke gather and change into a monster before their eyes; knowing what was going to happen right before it did, another explosion blasting out another floor of the building. The one Squad was trapped on...

**Chapter Two: Raging Inferno**

Smoke, debris and flames came roaring out of the structure; reaching out to pull anyone or thing into its malicious embrace. Cailin, Clarke and anyone standing close to the building thrown back as the concussive energy radiated out of the building. Immediately all chiefs on scene started yelling for everyone to move back and for their crews to stand down. Cally heard the buzzing in her ears, though she wasn't sure if it was from the shock wave or from an impending panic attack; her psychic armor finally falling away. It was only after Clarke hauled her to her feet, cradling her face in his hands as he kept asking if she was okay that she realized it was from the blast. Finally she nodded, pointing to her ears; unlike his, they hadn't been protected by gear.

Clarke saw the beast growing before him, seeing it draw back before its venomous strike. He had worked meth lab scenes before, knew how bad they could be and after being in the building he could confirm that this operation seemed a contradictory mix of volume and disorganization. Quantity over quality, to say the least. He was already tensing as the supersonic wall of air passed over them, knocking them both back. Smaller, lighter and unburdened by gear, Cally knocked further back. Her unmoving heap made his blood turn to ice, though she quickly started coming to. He shook himself off, simultaneously reaching down to pull her to his feet, asking if she was all right. She didn't answer right away, looking at him as though he were speaking an alien language. He worried that her recent concussion had made her vulnerable to a more severe injury. His dirty palms found her face, leaving their mark as he continued questioning her. A long moment passed before she nodded, pointing at her ears. Clarke realized she didn't have the benefit of protective gear and her eardrums had probably taken a good hit.

"Let's get you back away from here," he said, fighting the urge to wrap her up in his arms and keep her pressed against him. He knew he had to get back in that building, men still trapped inside. HIS men. But first, he had to get his girl to safety. She nodded again, still slightly dazed, shaking her head, desperately trying to stop the ringing. He guided her by her elbow, depositing her next to a vaguely familiar looking paramedic. "Can you check her ears?" he asked the woman.

"I'm fine, Jeff," she said, realizing she was probably yelling like the first relief chief had been when they first pulled up. "Really," she said, forcing herself to lower her voice. She could still hear; it was just like she was underwater. She could hear enough to pickup on the fact that every CO in the vicinity had called for his crew to stand down; and judging from the firefighters hauling ass away from the building, most were complying. Giving the noxious cloud pouring out of the building she didn't blame them, not to mention more than one of them looked like their gear was melting to them. She waved off the same paramedic that had packed her wounds after the shooting, "they need you more," she said.

The words dove straight into her heart and gut as soon as she said them, her blue eyes locking on familiar sea glass ones. Hell, she had said it to Erin not that long before. He had to go back in. For his men, trapped in the inferno raging before him. She knew despite his military training he was going to ignore the command from the COs, or maybe _because of_ his military experience; he would not leave a man behind. Honor, courage, commitment; they made up his core, his essence.

Clarke's eyes met Cally's, seeking comfort and maybe acceptance in their sky-blue depths. He could see the change in them, as her words sunk in. His heart caught in his throat for a moment; he knew he was going back in that building, he didn't want her opposition. But the clouds quickly cleared, leaving behind a beacon of light. She gave a single, resolute nod. "I love you, Cally, always," he said, pressing his lips briefly to her hers; picking up his mask as he jogged back toward the building, ignoring the protests from the COs.

"See you around, Clarke," Cailin called, fervently praying it was the truth.

It looked like a war zone. If the war had taken place on the surface of the sun behind a solar flare. Everything engulfed in flames and pitch-black at the same time. What objects Clarke could make out melted into indistinguishable lumps. The blast had brought down more than just what remained of the staircase. The need for ladders to rescue Squad nullified. Mills and Capp were struggling to stand, both looking dazed as they tried to make sense of what had just happened. Their turnout gear looked like it was peppered with gunfire, including a particularly nasty piece of metal embedded into Capp's upper arm. Mills had an actively bleeding head wound, discovering it about the same time Clarke did, the younger man's head reaching up, touching the wetness and recoiling as he saw the red. "Can you get out?" Clarke bellowed through his mask at Capp, knowing it was the only way the other man would hear him. Protocol said he should check for spinal injuries, but he was more concerned about additional explosions and the building coming down on top of them. Capp nodded, looking at the piece of metal in his arm and paling.

"Don't pull it out," Clarke screamed, shoving Capp toward the sliver of light that was the blessed outdoors. He looked back at Mills; nearly sighing with relief as he realized the other man's mask was still on as well. Luckily, the series of explosions had blown enough holes in the building that kinetic energy and diffusion had taken over, releasing much of the deadly chemicals into the outside air. He had to resort to hand signals with Mills, the man's eardrums completely perforated. Though the legacy firefighter had inherited good instincts and skill, leading him to the same actions Clarke would have instructed. They swept the area visually, trying to discern which mass might be human, coming first on an unconscious Tony, half-buried under debris. Mills reached him first, digging him out and already pulling him towards the exit, as Clarke continued trying to locate Severide or Newhouse.

The trio emerging from the building must have spurred others to defy their orders, as Clarke was suddenly joined by one lone fellow firefighter. He hadn't worked with the man, Dowling, before; but he was too grateful for another presence to worry about that. "We're still missing two," Clarke said, desperately listening for the high-pitched scream of their PASS units. Both men froze, wanting to rip off their masks and helmets to hear better, but afraid of what the heavy hanging clouds in the structure still held. Suddenly, faintly, Clarke heard it; those two ominous tones, repeating, getting louder the closer he moved toward the source. His boot hit something that gave a little, a moan following. Clarke frantically started digging, working to uncover the firefighter attached to the alarm. Thankfully, it didn't take much before a face he recognized could be seen.

"You look like hell," Clarke said, crouching over Severide, resisting the urge to grab him and shake him.

"About damn time, where is the rest of the cavalry?" Severide asked, trying to get up, stuffing down his panic as he realized he couldn't feel his legs.

"Us two are it, they told us to stand down," Clarke said with a smirk.

Severide grimaced, still trying to force his legs to follow the command his brain was giving them, not wanting Clarke to know what was going on. "What happened to once a Marine, huh?"

"I came back for your sorry ass, didn't I?" he said, before realizing Severide still wasn't moving and he didn't like the look on the other man's face. "Talk to me, buddy," he said, moving more debris out of the way, realizing that Severide had also been peppered with shrapnel.

"Clarke, over here," he heard Dowling yell, and then the other PASS alarm sounding. He looked down at Severide, "sit tight, I'll be right back."

"Not like I can go anywhere, Clarke," Severide called after him.

Newhouse had taken the brunt of the blast his helmet knocked off and his bunker jacket blown open. Clarke wasn't sure if it was from the explosion or his abnormally inflated chest. Blood hemorrhage from his nose and mouth, giving Clarke a good idea of just how serious the younger man's injuries were. He had seen this type of injury before, just not outside of battle, blast lung coupled with penetrating ballistic injuries from debris. Newhouse's eyes were wide and panicked, his fingers clawed at his throat as he gasped for air. Clarke took in the wheezing and blood, practically watching the other man's sand run out before him. Newhouse needed oxygen and a ventilator, but there was no way he was getting either of those things in what was left of the building.

"Hold on, kid, we gotta get you out of here, to fresh air," he said, clenching his jaw as he knew the unlikelihood of Newhouse making it to the hospital instead of the morgue. Clarke leaned in, pressing his ear to the man's chest, clearly hearing the struggle to breathe and something else...he paused running through his combat medic knowledge. "Crap," he said, quickly working to haul the man to his side despite Newhouse fighting him and crying out in pain. "It's for your own good, I think you have an air embolism."

He looked up at Dowling, the other man rooted to his spot as he had been since coming across Newhouse. "We gotta get him out of here, now!" Clarke ordered, bringing the other man back to the present.

"Sure thing," Dowling replied, "what end do you-" he didn't have a chance to finish the question as Newhouse began violently choking on his blood and whatever other toxic mix of chemicals he had been breathing since his helmet was knocked off.

"Damnit, he's aspirating," Clarke swore, feeling a sense of dread and helplessness wash over him, knowing the outcome of what was happening in front of him. It seemed to happen in both milliseconds and hours, Newhouse's body bucking before going completely slack. Clarke shook his head, pressing his fingers to his neck to confirm what he already knew from looking into the man's vacant but still somehow panicked eyes. He shook his head at Dowling, pressing his fingers to the young man's eyelids, forcing them closed before he rushed back to his former Lieutenant's side.

Tiring of waiting, Sergeant Platt pulled up in the Hermann's minivan, Cindy and Donna rushing out. Platt the only reason the CPD didn't stop them, Voight waving them through. "Crap, Hermann," Cailin muttered, realizing she hadn't made the phone call she Hermann had asked her to make before Clarke went rushing back into...she shook it off. She had to believe that he would be fine, couldn't allow any other possibility. She rushed over to Cindy, trying to fill the terrified woman, who was badgering Boden..

"Cindy, Christopher is fine. A little banged up but fine. He went with Brian to the hospital," Cally reassured her.

"Oh thank God," Cindy said, making the sign of the cross as she looked around. "What about Squad?" she asked, her eyes growing wide again.

Cailin swallowed, realizing she didn't know what to say. Squad seemed the only ones unaccounted for, but that had to change, because...

"Clarke's going to get them out," Erin said, resolutely from her side, as if reading her mind. "He has to. No man left behind, right, Callahan?" she said, looking at the other woman, wondering if the blonde was as close to crumbling as she was. If it wasn't for her anger at Hank for not letting her work the case, she would have shattered by now. "Thank God he had the balls to go back in," she said, glaring at Boden and the other two relief chiefs beside him.

Boden didn't hear, so caught up in trying to reassure Donna he was fine, even as tears streamed down both their faces, the man apologizing for ruining their wedding day. Everyone's attention turned to the firefighter emerging from the building, the sun glinting off the piece of metal sticking out of his arm. Rafferty sprung to action, running toward Capp, pulling him towards an ambo. Mills followed close behind, dragging a still unconscious Tony with him; the young man's bunker jacket practically molded to his form from the intense heat of the fireball. Other firefighters surged forward, reaching around Mills to grab Tony, to get him on to a gurney. Cailin noticed one lone figure break off from the pack, rushing into the building. She let out a whoosh of air, happy Clarke had backup, even if it was from a stranger.

"He'll be fine, so will Kelly," Erin said, realizing she had unconsciously wrapped her arm around through the other woman's.

Cailin set her jaw, nodding in agreement, even if Erin's tone made it much more of a question. They leaned into each other needing each other's strength, though neither woman would have admitted it, even if interrogated. Both nearly collapsed, the only thing holding the other up as the entire building started to shake, the structural integrity irreparably compromised.

"Everybody back," the chiefs yelled again, though this time all were already heeding the warnings.

Seemingly nanoseconds before the weary building finally gave up and folded in on itself, collapsing to a ground that seemed to swallow it up, a trio materialized. Both Erin and Cailin wondered if they were hallucinating, as they saw the two men in full gear carrying a third man on the remnants of a door between them. Erin was already off and running as she realized it was her fireman splayed on the door, being transferred to a gurney. "I'm good, I'm good," he said, trying to assuage the brunette detective standing beside him looking both terrified and furious.

"How can you say that, Kelly? You just got carried out of a collapsed building on a door!"

"Can we please have this argument in the ambo?" he asked as the gurney was loaded into the waiting vehicle, not wanting her to unleash whatever was building up inside of her in front of the assembled crowd. Sure, the guys had seen plenty of scorned women dress Kelly down in front of the firehouse; but at least then he was standing on his own two feet, at least then he could feel the damn things.

One of the relief chiefs didn't offer Clarke the same courtesy, getting in his face as soon as Severide was safely on the gurney. He raged on about insubordination, chain of command and disciplinary action, but Clarke barely even registered the man's wrath. He stepped around him, smiling at the approaching figure.

"Semper fi, huh, cowboy?" Cailin said, looking up at him, both relieved and worried. "You should get checked out."

"In a minute," he said, reaching for her, wrapping his arms around her, and pressing her to him like he had wanted to before.

His lips sought hers with such force that it took her breath away. "Better?" she asked when he broke off the kiss; studying him carefully, knowing his composed exterior belied a crumbling spirit.

He shook his head, cradling her face in his palms, resting his head against hers. He needed to touch her warm, soft flesh, to feel her breath against his face. He craved the feeling of her heart pounding next to his. Desperately wanting a reminder that they were both alive, while the newest member of Squad lay buried beneath the rubble...

Cailin reached up, threading her fingers through his, bringing them down; wishing she could banish the demons creeping back into his soul. "Newhouse?" she asked, the only unaccounted member of the roster. He closed his eyes and shook his head, his nostrils flaring slightly. It was her turn to cradle him, pulling him down toward her. He immediately feel to his knees, pressing his face to her stomach. She dropped her hands down, running one through his hair, the other around him. "You're safe, Jeff, I've got you," she said, echoing his words once again.

**Chapter Three: When the Smoke Clears**

It was Boden who approached them, waving off the relief chief who had tried to tear Clarke a new one. He cleared his throat on his approach, pausing to give his former Squad member time to come to his feet and collect himself. "Lieutenant," he said, extending a hand, "thank you for your work today."

"My job, sir," Clarke replied, shaking it firmly. Cailin remained at his side, close but not touching.

Boden looked at each of them before saying, "why don't you head to the hospital, get yourself checked out? I am sure you will want to check on Lieutenant Casey, Detective?" he said, taking in the woman's flagging energy. The pair nodded, coming down off their adrenaline high; leaning on each other as they walked away.

The only things Clarke removed on the way to the hospital were his tank, helmet and mask. He left on his bunker jacket as he could feel the fabric of his non-FR shirt sticking to his skin beneath it. He tried to not wince, not wanting to worry Cailin. He could tell she had pushed things too far; on her leg all day without any assistance, knocked back by multiple blasts, and who knows what else she had done why he was running into burning buildings. She was intensely focused on the drive from South Street to the hospital; her jaw set and her brow furrowed. He knew she was worried about Casey, but he couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't something else going on underneath the surface.

Cailin focused on the traffic in front of her, wishing she were in a department issued vehicle so she could have lights and sirens all the way to the hospital. She pulled up illegally by the ambulance bay, snarling and flashing her badge at the security guard, muttering something about a rent-a-cop. Clarke couldn't help but smirk, gesturing to his turnout gear as well.

The ER was its usual scene of chaos, especially considering the tour bus accident. Cailin scanned the people in the waiting room, zeroing on Gabby, slumped against her brother. "Gabs," she said, rushing over.

"Cally," Gabby said, tearing up as soon as she the pair.

Cailin skidded to a stop, Clarke bumping into her, steadying her and keeping a hold of her as she asked, "what, what is it?"

"I don't know, they won't tell me anything!"

She slid her eyes over to Antonio, wondering if his badge had helped. The other detective shook his head. "Screw this," Cailin said, marching up to the nurses' station. "Matthew Casey, CFD, news, now!" she demanded, knowing it wouldn't make her any friends; but considering her stunt with Arata at the train derailment, she was pretty sure she wasn't high on the BFF-list of most medical professionals in the city.

Cailin let out a sigh of relief as the nurse said, "you must be his sister. Doctor will be right with you."

Cailin nodded, croaking out a thank you until she realized. Christie, someone needed to call Christie. And that someone should be her, but she wanted to be able to talk to the doctor. Cally pulled out her phone, ducking to the exit to make a quick call. "Cam, it's me. Yes, your only sister. I need you to do me a solid. I need you to go pick up Christie. It's Matt again. No I don't know yet. Yeah, the building explosion. Just do it, Cameron; you two broke up eons ago, I thought you were still friends."

Clarke was still standing in the waiting room when she walked back in. "What's the matter, CFD doesn't get first priority around here?" she snapped.

"I'm fine, Cal. What about you, do you need an ice pack?" he asked, wishing she would sit down instead of pacing.

Gabby was still sitting practically catatonic in the waiting room chair, Antonio had his arm around her, but Cally could hear the incessant buzzing of his phone. She wondered what Voight and his team had come up with regarding the owners of the meth lab. Their eyes caught and he twitched his head toward his sister and then toward his phone. Cally nodded, sitting on the other side of Gabby so Antonio could take the call.

She searched for the right words to say, but her own fears tangled her thoughts and words. Finally she croaked out, "he's going to be fine!" She was demanding it of the universe as much as she was saying it to her friend.

Gabby gave the briefest of nods, staring off into space with her eyes empty enough that Cailin had to wonder if Shay hadn't slipped her something. Speaking of which, where was Shay?

She spotted Rafferty, filling out paperwork as fast as she could. She patted Gabby on the shoulder. The woman didn't even flinch. "I'll be right back, I'm going to check in with Rafferty."

Cailin walked over, rapid firing questions at the paramedic. "Have you seen Shay? Did they bring Severide here too? Have you heard anything about Casey? What about the guys they brought to the Med Center?" Cally caught something in the woman's eyes. "What, what is it?"

Rafferty cleared her throat, "Severide is here, he is in neuro now. He started seizing in the ambulance, so they are trying to figure out if he has any head trauma in addition to if the paralysis is permanent. That other detective is even bossier than you; she followed them up there. Shay had to be admitted as well. She was more hurt than she let on, took a piece of rebar to the abdomen, lost a lot of blood." She studied Cailin carefully, wondering if she was going to need to flag over a gurney; but the other woman just squared her shoulders, tensed her jaw and replied, "I see."

Cailin took in the new information, feeling the dark waves of panic start to tug at her with their familiar undertow. She forced it back, forced everything back and down. She had to turn off her emotions, to distance herself from feeling anything; otherwise how could she be there for the people who needed her strong...

"Anyway, I gotta get back to the scene, there was still some green tags that needed to be checked out. You gonna be alright?" Rafferty asked.

"I'm fine," she replied as a doctor stepped out calling for the family of Matthew Casey. She strode over, ready for battle, steeling herself for the worst possible news'.

"Family of Matthew Casey?" the doctor said to the blonde before him, taking in her stature and badge. Cailin didn't bother to correct him, just staring at him, waiting for any news. "Mr. Casey was exposed to several toxic chemicals and fumes including hydrochloric acid and is suffering from acute hypoxemia."

"But he's alive?" Cailin asked, trying to sift through what the doctor had just told her.

"Yes, but we don't know the extent of his injuries. He is at a high risk for chemical pneumonia and we currently have him on artificial ventilation to take some of the pressure of his lungs as we continue to run tests and we have him highly sedated."

She let out a long, slow breath, "what's the prognosis?"

"We won't know what his long term prognosis is for some time yet. But unless he has complications with other organs, his short term outlook is pretty good."

"I see," she replied carefully. "Can anyone see him?" Her mind was whirling with concern over Matt's health as well as what this meant to his career in the long term.

"Once we get him moved into the ICU. I think it is always healing to have familiar faces around." The doctor's pager went off, he gave Cailin another long look, wondering how much of his information had sunk in. The young woman's eyes had the glint of steel and looked far closer to some of the patients he had seen during his tenure at Walter Reed than that of a worried sibling. He finally got a short reply of "thank you, sir."

Cailin closed her eyes, internally steadying herself before walking back to where Gabby was still sitting, staring straight ahead. Clarke was beside her, perched on the edge of the chair, still in his turnout gear. His face was a blank mask, but Cally could tell he was in pain. She wondered what the extents of his heroics inside the building were. She looked around for a nurse, wondering if anyone was actually working at this damn hospital.

Finally she just stepped in the path of a nurse making her way to the snack machine. "Excuse me," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as hollow as it felt. "There is a fireman over there, from the building explosion. He hasn't been looked at yet."

"We've been really busy with trauma cases from the bus accident," the nurse said, trying to brush her off, stopping when she saw Cailin's badge and her intense focus. "I'll see what I can do," she replied, turning back toward the nurses' station.

Cailin made her way back toward Gabby and Clarke, trying to ignore the physical pain coursing through her body. She had been able to halt her emotions, but her body was betraying her.

She had to crouch down in front of Gabby to finally get the woman's attention, her leg threatening to give out on her any second. "They had to put him on a ventilator, but he's alive. Once they move him to ICU, you can see him." She kept her information sparse; knowing from personal experience Gabby would not be able to process anything more than that.

Gabby just nodded. Cailin looked up at Clarke, a flicker of concern darting across her face before she settled it back into its blank visage.

Clarke patted the chair next to him, brushing her hair back with a still soot-covered hand. He knew Gabby was in complete shock and that Cally was trying her damnedest to shut down her emotions in order to continue on. He also could tell she was terrified and in pain. There was nothing he wouldn't give to turn the clock back to earlier in the day when he was fastening that pendant around her neck, and to stop time there; to let himself get lost in her instead of this day from hell.

She carefully pulled herself to standing, every nerve ending a tiny knife stabbing her. She didn't sit, seeing the nurse she flagged down earlier coming toward them.

"Sir, I understand you were at the building explosion?" she asked, her expression sympathetic. Clarke nodded. "We need to check you out for chemical exposure. If you could come this way." He nodded again, standing, giving Cally a squeeze and what he hoped was a reassuring look; though judging from the further paling of her skin, it didn't work.

"I'll be fine, Cally. Love you," he said, giving her a quick kiss.

"At least he's breathing on his own,," came Gabby's voice from below her, somehow empty and venomous at the same time.

Cailin would have been taken aback, but she knew exactly what the other woman was feeling, or trying not to feel. "Matt is in good hands. And he's a fighter." Her eyes were drawn to the exit, her brother accompanying Matt's sister. The woman was teary eyed and wringing her hands, rushing up to Cailin for information. Cailin moved them out of the way, not wanting to stress Gabby further.

"What do you mean he's not breathing on his own...on purpose?" Christie looked at her completely perplexed.

"It's actually pretty normal with pulmonary issues," Cailin replied, harkening back to her own lung issues back in New York. "They are just helping take a load off while they figure out what all treatment he needs. Think of it like his lungs taking a little vacation." Cailin sounded far more assured and in control than she felt. "While we are waiting on him to be moved, why don't you go sit down?"

Cam stared down his sister before helping Christie over to a chair, concerned over the armor she had resurrected. He had heard stories from Cullen, about how Cally was more of a shell than a person and he worried she was slipping away once again. Hopefully her fireman was okay. Why the hell couldn't she date an accountant or some other boring, safe, professional? "Cal-" he started.

"I'm fine, Cam. Just get Christie over there by Gabby before she falls out. I'm going to get a coffee and see what I can find out about the rest of 51."

Cailin was returning with her cup of coffee when she stopped short, the paper cup falling to the floor as she saw the nurse attempting to extract pieces of fabric from the second-degree burns maring Clarke's back. No wonder he hadn't taken his bunker coat off yet.

It shouldn't have surprised her, nearly every firefighter that had emerged from the inferno looked like they were life-sized shrinky dinks. But seeing the red, angry blisters scattered across a back she had admired, stroked and loved...an orderly and nurse appeared at her side. The former with a mop and scowl, the latter with a look of concern and trying to move her away.

"Miss, please," she said, gripping Cailin's elbow.

"Let go," she growled in reply, her tone one of fierce protectiveness.

Clarke's head turned, recognizing not only the voice, but also the tone. "Cally, I'm fine," he said, craning his neck to try to look through the gap in the curtain, the nurse admonishing him even as she waved Cailin in.

"That is not fine, Jeff!" she argued, entering the curtained off area and facing him down. "This is what you get for running into a burning building without FR on, cowboy!" She wanted the nickname to soften her words, but her intonation belied her. Her voice cracking as she inched ever nearer her breaking point.

"I need to get the dressings on. He will need help with changing them and cleaning the wounds for the next couple of weeks and the doctor will probably prescribe him a round of antibiotics and maybe some pain meds. We're still waiting on his tox and gas screens, but his lung sounds are good. So he is telling you the truth, detective, he will be fine. Thanks for getting him seen, though."

Clarke gave Cally a look silently calling her out before turning the tables on her. "What about you, babe, how's the leg and shoulder? I'm guessing you didn't tell the nurse about getting shot in the thigh and shoulder a month ago."

"How are you walking around unaided?" the nurse asked as she spread ointment over Clarke's back.

"She has a cane, she's still supposed to be using it."

"Thanks, narc," Cailin grumbled, "it didn't really scream 'wedding attire' and I wasn't aware it was going to turn into..." she trailed off, overwhelmed.

The nurse looked from one to the other. She saw plenty of crap in a day, but a cop and a fireman? She wouldn't want to hear their dinner conversations. She finished taping down the dressing, saying, "how about I give you two a couple of minutes and go see if I can find a pair of scrubs lying around?"

She slipped out, leaving the couple staring at each other. "I really am fine, Cal," Clarke said, his voice low, his eyes full of concern.

As had been the case since she met him, Cailin felt her walls crumbling as she got lost in his eyes. Her armor pierced once again. "It feels awful to say it, Jeff, but for the first time I am so glad you aren't at 51 anymore. That could have been- she broke off, terror and grief etched clearly on her face.

Clarke reached out to her, ignoring the scorching sensation of his back. Physically connecting with her far more important than his pain. His hands encircled her wrists, pulling her up to the side of the bed. "But it wasn't, Cally. I'm here, I'm safe and I am not going anywhere on you." He meant it, vowing it to her with his entire being. He realized that even though he would keep running in while others were running out until the day the CFD made him retire, he wasn't willing to make her go through the pain of losing someone she loved again.

Something cemented as she echoed his thoughts with her next statement, her eyes full of such anguish it broke his heart as she said, "I can't lose you, you gotta be in this for the long haul."

"You ain't getting rid of me, Callahan, promise," he replied, pulling her down to him, his lips meeting hers.


	2. When the Dust Settles

**Chapter Four: And the Dust Settles**

Cailin pulled away as Clarke let out a small grunt of pain when her arm involuntarily snaked around his back. "Crap, sorry," she said, jerking back as though she had touched a hot burner.

"I'll live," he said, trying to force a smile.

She just looked at him, blinking, worried. Finally she said, "I should go check on Matt. And Kelly. And Leslie," she tacked on, her tone getting more despondent with each syllable.

"Shay?" Clarke said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Apparently she got hurt in the first blast when she tried to protect Gabby. But like somebody else," Cailin glared at him, "she kept her turnout kit on and kept going. Took it in the gut with a piece of rebar." She paused before asking, "you planning on telling me why Raffety was going on about ruling out permanent paralysis with Kelly?"

He hadn't wanted to burden her with anything else, though he should have known she would sniff out information on anybody from 51 in a nanosecond. "He was buried under debris, had to rely on his PASS to find him. I didn't know anything was wrong at first, at least not until he didn't jump up blowing me off and telling me he was all good." Clarke gave a slight shrug, the most he could manage under his dressings, "it looked like a blast zone, they were all peppered with shrapnel…" he trailed off, his eyes losing focus.

Cailin knew he was either going back to the building or to one of his deployments; regardless, he wasn't all with her. "Jeff," she said quietly, reaching out and gently running the back of her hand down his forearm, hoping he wasn't in the grips of a flashback and about to strike out at her.

"What?" he asked, blinking, as if just waking up, continuing,"Severide will rally, he's too much of a hotshot not to. Not to mention his detective seems as pushy as someone else I know." Clarke gave her a hollow smile, knowing he had been slipping down that deep well; could practically feel the grit of the sand as it blasted his face, could smell the metallic tang in the air as spent casings rained down. Not to mention Newhouse's face kept floating before his eyes, his face and lungs full of blood, his eyes wide with panic.

"Hey, didn't you just tell me you weren't going anywhere on me?" Cailin remarked, keeping her tone light, sitting gently on the gurney next to him. "You want to tell me what you keep seeing?"

Clarke stiffened slightly, shocked at her offer to listen. Not that he should have been, he knew she had been through a lot of the same hell even without leaving American soil. It was just so different to be approached gently, without accusation or anger. She wasn't going to tell him to snap out of it or that he was being ridiculous. She genuinely wanted to know what was haunting him, to help him banish those ghosts. "Newhouse, that damn kid."

Cailin nodded, not wanting to push, but wanting to let him vent. Sometimes talking it out made it better, but sometimes it didn't. "How bad was it?" she asked finally.

Clarke took a large intake of air. "There wasn't a damn thing I could do without a ventilator and a medical degree, nothing except watch him die in front of me and know he was doing it." He worked his jaw, his eyes clouding with tears and pain.

"Oh, Jeff," Cailin breathed out, placing her hand on his thigh, needing to maintain connection with him; but not wanting to hurt him and not knowing what to say. "It's all so awful," she stated finally.

"Not all, babe," he said, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer to his side.

He didn't let go even as the nurse came back in, dropping a pair of sweatpants and a scrub shirt on his lap. "Best I could do. Detective Callahan, I believe you can see Lieutenant Casey now if you would like. I can make sure this one finds his way there after we get the paperwork done."

Cailin looked at Clarke, torn between who she should be with. "Go," he said, "I'll be right behind you, making sure you get an icepack on you soon," he added, teasingly.

If you could look past the machines and tubes and could ignore the beeping and whooshing, it looked like Matt was just catching a really good nap. Cailin wondered if that was the case, she hoped so. Christie was sitting as his bedside, clutching his hand in both of hers while Gabby stood next to her in the hallway, staring through the glass.

"This can't be happening,," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I can't say this is how I thought today would go," Cailin replied, absently moving the key pendant along the chain around her neck.

The movement caught Gabby's eye, her friend didn't normally wear much jewelry, especially around her neck; always trying to hide her scar. She recalled seeing the new addition as she complimented Cailin on her sundress, but was distracted by something. It hit her. Some one. Matt had pulled her aside, wanting to talk. And then…and then…her breath caught in her throat and she struggled to get in oxygen. Trying to cover she asked, "did you know Matt was going to propose today?"

Cailin made a small noise, close to a snort. "Nope. Probably wouldn't have suggested someone else's wedding as an ideal spot. Did you say yes?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I didn't get a chance to answer," Gabby replied somberly.

"Go in, I'm sure Christie won't mind," Cailin suggested.

Gabby shook her head, "I just can't, not yet."

She nodded, catching sight of their reflection in the glass, realizing how dirty and battered they both were. Gabby's head wound cleaned and re-bandaged, but her face was still covered in soot and grime. She had taken off her bunker gear, but her paramedic uniform rumpled and reeking of smoke.

Cailin wasn't faring much better, she attempted to work a knot out of her neck, giving up as her fingers met granite. Relaxing wasn't in the cards anytime soon. "Do you mind if I?" she asked Gabby, gesturing towards the bed.

"Please, go, maybe it will help me work up the courage," Gabby said, hugging herself.

Cailin rubbed her on the back, "Gabs, I am pretty sure you have more courage in your pinkie than I could ever hope to have." She gave her friend a smile before stepping into the glass cube, carefully shutting the door behind her. "I don't know why I am trying to be quiet," she said with a hollow laugh to Christie.

"I am pretty sure the two of you don't know how to be quiet together," Christie retorted with a wan smile of her own. "Sit, please," she said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the bed.

"How are you holding up?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that, Cally? All this after getting shot, what, a month ago?"

Cailin gave a half-shrug, "you know us Callahans, we are a hearty stock. I'm stronger than I look." She looked down at Matt in the bed, wishing she could read whatever brain waves he was generating. "So is he," she said, trying to sound believable.

"I can't handle losing him, Cal. He's my baby brother and I couldn't protect him when-" Christie broke off, her emotions overwhelming her. She let go of her brother's hand, burying her face into her palms, sobbing, her shoulder shaking.

Cailin sat there, letting the woman be as alone as she could with her grief. The Casey siblings had a tough time of it growing up to say the least. Christie escaped as soon as she could, graduating high school early and then heading off to Northwestern.

Christie raised her head out of her palms, reaching for Matt's hand again. "He will be fine, he has to be," she said resolutely, her gazing going out the window to the hallway. "Has he asked her yet?"

Cailin knew Christie meant had he proposed to Gabby yet, but she didn't feel it was her place to reveal the events of earlier that day. "I made him promise me to tell me before he did," she said, a technical truth, just one he hadn't abided to.

"She's put him back together before, hopefully she can do it again," Christie said resolutely.

"She is a good PIC," Cailin said with a smirk.

Christie shook her head, "not just that. When Hallie broke off their engagement, he was crushed, and angry." Cailin chewed her lip, she and Matt had played plenty of phone tag during that time, but she had been so focused on building a case against Nansenko; she hadn't been there for him as much as she should have been. "And then after Hallie…" Christie trailed off before picking back up, "all he has ever wanted was the 2.5 and a picket fence. Me too, but I got mine, he needs to get his."

"He will, Chrissy, he will," Cailin said, reaching over to squeeze Matt's other hand, wincing as her shoulder screamed in pain.

Christie saw her wincing and said, "you must be exhausted. Why don't you go home and take a shower, get some sleep. I'll be fine here and Jim is coming later, his mother is coming to watch the kids."

"But what if he comes out of his sedation?," Cailin protested.

"Then I'll call you.. Cally, you have always been there for Matty, but there is no sense in all of us sitting by his bedside. Besides, there is a pretty hot guy out there who seems really concerned about you. I take it that is your Marine?"

Cailin looked over her good shoulder, catching Clarke's eyes through the glass. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a knowing look. She turned back to face Christie, "yeah, that's Jeff."

"Well I wouldn't keep him waiting long if I were you, or some nurse might try to steal him away," she said, with the faintest glimmer of a smile.

"I want to see them try," Cailin shot back, before moving around the bed to give Christie a hug. She reached out and squeezed Matt's foot admonishing him, "this is one way to get attention, bud! Get the hell better soon, would you?"

Cailin exited the room, her gaze briefly meeting Clarke's over Gabby's head before giving her friend what she hoped as a reassuring smile. "It's not as bad as you think. Just pretend he tried to drink me under the table again and he is sleeping one off. I'm going to go check on Kelly and Leslie and then catch a shower with the hopes of washing some of this day off."

Gabby looked at her with wide, frightened eyes, as if suddenly realizing that all of 51 had been in the building. "Kelly got hurt? Leslie must be freaking out. What about everyone else?" Clarke and Cailin exchanged a look. Gabby caught it and crossed her arms over her chest. "What is it, you two?"

Clarke cleared his throat, "Listen, Dawson, I know you are dealing with this, but the scene was bad. Real bad-" his voice cracked and Cally picked up reporting.

"Severide is being evaluated for a spinal injury and started seizing on the way here. Shay got hurt worse than we knew in the first explosion. They are both upstairs. Everyone else is at Chicago Med."

"Everyone?" she asked, not needing to expound for the pair to get her meaning.

Cally didn't turn her head, just shifted her weight so her arm and side were pressing against Clarke's, just trying to be a presence as he shook his head and said, "Newhouse didn't make it."

"Damn," Gabby said, tears forming in her eyes. She refused to let them fall, wiping them away with the back of her hand and saying, "I need to get in there, I have to be strong for both of us."

"If you need anything, Gabs, really, anything," Cailin said, giving her friend a quick hug.

They made their way upstairs to the neurology ward where Severide had been moved to. Cally smirked as she learned Shay was in the room next door. "Odds on Shay getting them a shared room before the day is out?"

"Maybe not the day," Clarke replied with a small smile as they exited the elevator. He kept his palm pressed against the small of her back as they neared Severide's room, refusing to break their connection.

Neither were prepared for what awaited them. Kelly Severide was surrounded by even more machines than Casey, his too pale form unmoving, unconscious. The door to the room slid shut, the pair pausing, unsure what to do until the doctor inside waved them in.

"What, what happened? He was fine, he was talking-" Cally asked, her voice rising in panic. Clarke stiffened beside her, preparing for the worst.

The doctor looked from one concerned face to the other before speaking. "The patient arrived in a state of status epilepticus, which is a persistent seizure. This was due to severe intracranial pressure, probably due the blast or his fall." She took a breath before continuing. "We had to place him in a barbiturate induced coma and under cooling blankets in order to prevent apoptosis. We're hoping this will limit any further possible brain damage."

"Further possible damage?" Cally croaked, looking around for Erin, unsure how she could possibly be keeping it together.

The doctor cleared her throat, "we won't know the extent of any damage until the swelling has gone down and we can ease him off the medications. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to do rounds."

The pair circled around on either side of their friend's bed. "Can't leave you alone for five minutes, huh, Severide?" Clarke quipped, as though Kelly was fully conscious and would respond.

Cally couldn't help but smile, even as her eyes filled with tears. "Always knew your head would swell too big once Erin agreed to go out with you, Kel," she also teased, reaching out to squeeze her friend's shoulder. She caught sight of her fellow detective out of the corner of her eye, motioning to Clarke that she was going to step out.

Cailin approached Erin who was, as she suspected, pacing anxiously in the hallway; though she was also having a terse conversation with someone. Cally bet it was Voight. Erin stabbed at her phone angrily, looking like she wanted to pitch it across the room. "Investigation not going well?"

"More like can't find anybody attached to the operation that wasn't in the building. They are still working on identifying the bodies, but so far..." Erin trailed off. "I am just not sure they suffered enough, Cally," the brunette detective said quietly, looking in on the unconscious form of her boyfriend hooked up to so many machines.

Cailin just nodded. "I know what you mean." She shook off the memories. "I'd ask how you are holding up, but I'm guessing pure adrenaline, terror and anger?"

Erin nodded, refusing to let the tears filling her eyes spill over, wiping angrily at them. "Pretty much." She sighed, looking up as Clarke slid open the door to Severide's room. "If you don't mind, I'm going to…" she trailed off, hiding her face from her friend as the tears streamed down her face.

Cailin knew how much she craved privacy, gesturing behind her friend's back for Clarke to shoo. "Totally. Let me know if there is anything I can do. In the meantime, I'm going to check in on Shay," she said, pointing at the room next door.

"Quit hovering in the doorway like I am on my deathbed and get in here, girl!"

Cailin stepped in, taking in her friend's pallor, saying, "you did not have to play the hero, sweets."

Shay gave her something between a grimace and a smile, "what and let the guys get all the glory? Please!"

Cailin smiled back before asking, "what happened? How are you doing?"

"Fell on some rebar trying to cover Dawson's sweet ass and punctured my colon. So I get to crap in a bag while I binge watch Orange is the New Black, huh?" What she didn't reveal to the blonde detective was that her injury was most likely career ending and the colostomy bag was most likely going to be a permanent fixture in her life. That would really help her love life.

Cally couldn't help but laugh, Shay joining in until she clutched her abdomen in pain. "Okay, nothing funny yet. How is Matt doing?"

"They put him on a ventilator and sedated him. They are still trying to figure out the extent of his lung damage. Gabby still seems in shock..." she trailed off before saying, "I like how you managed to get next to Kelly on the neurology floor."

"I figured between me and Detective Hairporn badgering him from a close distance, he would be back on his feet in no time." Cailin forced herself to not smile or laugh.

Shay's focus suddenly went over Cally's shoulder. "Oh no, not you too. Get in here, you big lug. I am fine, tons of sand left," she said, motioning for Clarke to enter. She looked carefully at the pair, "now no offense, but you both look," she paused, raising her eyebrows, "and smell horrible. And seeing as you both can walk out of here and eat solid food, I'm kicking you out. Go, shower, sleep, and eat the messiest Italian beef for me, since I can't."

The pair looked at each other and back to Shay before Cally before taking Clarke's offered arm and they both used each other as a crutch, in more ways than one.

"I'm guessing nobody told her about Kelly's medically induced coma," Cally said as they moved toward the elevator.

"Not a chance," he replied, stabbing at the down button, suddenly desperate to get home and try to put this nightmare of a day behind them.

**Chapter Five: This is What Remains**

Cailin was sitting on the sofa at Clarke's going through the stack of mail she had picked up after stopping by to visit Shay, who still hadn't been released from the hospital after going septic from her wounds and colostomy. The past couple of weeks had been difficult, to say the least; but everyone was healing, a day at a time.

Luckily neither Matt or Kelly had to have additional surgeries, the swelling on their respective injuries going down on their own. Matt was still dealing with RADs, though since 9/11 the treatment and prognosis had been much improved. Gabby had been by his side as much as she could be when not on 61 and complaining about her relief partners while Shay was still on undetermined medical leave.

Kelly was dealing with residual memory effects and the doctors were trying to figure out why he kept having mini-seizures, though the most stark problem he was dealing with was a stark change to his personality. The normally jovial man had turned sullen and angry, masking his depression by pushing everyone, even Erin away. They all kept at visiting him, willing him to get back to work as soon as possible.

Hermann was also back to work, filling in as the Lieutenant on Truck 81, even though a shaken Cindy had started pestering him to take a job down at HQ. Cruz's leg was still on the mend, but he was doing quite well. That may have had something to do with him reconnecting with a pretty nurse from his past while in the hospital, the pair having picked up their former high school romance like not a day had gone by. Mouch and Otis barely missed a shift, back making Hermann's life more interesting with their constant pranks on Truck 81's relief staff.

Mills and Capp were also both back on Squad with Clarke occasionally acting as their Lieutenant as the request of Severide; but were running their truck short after Newhouse's death even with the addition of Scott Rice.

Despite constantly trying to push her away, Detective Lindsay's remained by her firefighter's side, taking time off to literally help get Severide back up on his feet. Which was helpful for Cailin. With Erin out, Voight had allowed her to stay up in IU, assisting on cases however much she could from a desk while still stuck on modified duty. She had slowly gained Voight's trust, probably because of what occurred after Jin turned up dead and Stillwell seemed intent on pinning it on Voight. Stillwell had, naturally, tried to approach her to spy on IU. He had hoped her weakened emotional and physical state would make her an easy pawn, but she had quickly told him where to go and how to get there. She had made an enemy in IAD, but she would have rather quit CPD and become a private detective than rat on her new team.

Which is exactly what she had told them when she tried to turn in her badge to Voight, figuring Stillwell would have her canned. The Sergeant pushed it right back toward her, told her to simmer the hell down and get back to trying to figure out who had killed Jin. She and the team had pieced together enough information, after Cally had gotten a CI to help her to crack Jin's computer, to track down the Asian gang Jin's father had been in deep with. Jin had paid off his father's gambling debts with his life.

Things were finally starting to return to the new normal, even if there still seemed to be setbacks and adjustments just about every day. Cailin was eternally grateful for Jeff's support and companionship. The pair had been practically inseparable since the shooting, further cemented since the day Shay kicked them out of her hospital room. Cailin had barely been back to Gabby's, hence the stack of mail she was sorting through, including the ominous letter that she had found stuffed under the door addressed to all occupants of the building.

"Crap," she said, scanning the letter and realizing it very much applied to her.

"Crap, what?" Clarke asked from the floor where he was doing sit-ups after coming in from a jog.

"Nothing for you to worry about. Go back to your sit-ups, show off," she said, rubbing at her temples.

He pulled himself to sitting, resting his arms on his knees and giving her a look. "Spill, Callahan," he ordered.

Cailin let out a sigh. "Gabby's landlord is selling the building and the buyers are turning it back into a single family home."

"And?" he asked, wondering why she sounded so forlorn about this news.

"It means I have to move," she said, sounding stressed.

"Figured that out when you said single family home." She stared down at him. "It's just a place, babe. A place you still call Dawson's even though you've lived there for how longs?" She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued, "you haven't even unpacked your boxes and there are only five of them. You treat it like a crash pad."

She just shrugged, everything he was saying was the truth, she wasn't sure why the idea of moving bothered her so much. She was puzzling through this when Clarke nonchalantly said, "just move in with me."

Even as Clarke said the words, he regretted them. Not because he didn't want Cally to move in, but because he saw the way she looked around, biting at her lip. He could practically read her thoughts as she took that trip down memory lane.

This was how she had moved in with Doyle, no pomp and circumstance, just a matter of convenience. It didn't matter that those two weren't even together yet, just partners doing each other a solid. Clarke didn't want it to be like that, wanting their relationship to be different; to be of their own creation, uniquely theirs. Which is when the other thing hit him as he saw her looking around. Taking in his ex-wife's decor, a style that matched neither of them but he hadn't bothered to expend the energy to change. It was entirely unfair to ask her to move in here.

He stood, moving to sit next to her on the sofa, gently squeezing her knee. "We can get our own place, Cal. How hard can it be? Shay and Severide do that all the time."

She snorted, appreciative that he seemed to get what she was thinking without having to say anything. "True," she answered, continuing, "but it's your condo, you own it."

"So I can sell it or rent it out, Cal, it's fine; and then we can get OUR own new place, together." She pursed her lips, torn between being giddy at the concept and not wanting to move in just because of convenience. It didn't feel like that, though, nothing about their relationship seemed about simple utility. "Just think about it, okay?" he asked, looking at her seriously before a small smirk played on his face, "though I might have to point out that suitcase you left in the hallway a couple of weeks ago."

"Gotta bust my chops, huh, cowboy?" she said, laughing as he pulled her toward him.

"You give as good as you get, babe," he said, before his lips met hers.

Cailin wouldn't admit it to anyone, definitely not anyone up in IU, but she was bored to the point of breaking. Sitting at a desk all day, with the occasional visit to some scumbag in interrogation, not even being allowed down to the cage…she was intensely jealous of not only her co-workers, but everyone getting back to work at 51. Which now included everybody but Shay and Severide. It was looking less likely that the vivacious blonde paramedic would return to her beloved ambo, but she refused to talk about it, remaining optimistic, even as it became increasingly tinged with sarcasm.

Kelly Severide was being such a Grade A jerk that Erin decided to return to work full-time, her anger outweighing her worry over her fireman. Which ramped up Cailin's anxiety that Voight would realize that anything she brought to the tram was redundant. She wanted to be back on full duty already, but the blast had undone some of her healing and she was back to PT and the cane.

Not to mention she knew something was going on with Jeff, his normally quiet demeanor going practically silent since returning to truck 25 up in Roger's Park. At first she attributed things to the after-effects of the blast. Both of them plagued by nightmares and the other residual symptoms of PTSD rearing its ugly head; but they were working through it, together. Except something kept nagging at her and she hated the wall he seemed to be putting up between them.

Finally, one night when they were silently lying in bed together, Clarke pretending to read a spy novel and Cally scrolling through her phone, she had had enough. "Talk to me, Jeff" Cailin begged, her eyes filling with tears, unable to handle the distance she felt between them.

Clarke sighed, setting his book on the nightstand before turning towards her, taking in her expression. His shoulders slumped, weighed down by grief and what felt like an existential crisis. "I keep thinking about Newhouse," he replied finally.

She mirrored his sigh, her hand reaching out to cradle his jaw. "You did everything you could, babe, you aren't a doctor!"

His chest rose as he took in a big gulp of air, garnering the courage to say what had been wiggling in the back of his mind since his combat medic days. "But what if I am supposed to be?" Cailin looked at him quizzically but didn't remove her hand until he propped himself up in the bed. "Back in the day, after my first tour, I thought about med school. Had a buddy over there whose wife was going through it, we traded some tales whenever we were on leave. I always knew I was just throwing a bandaid on bullet holes, but I always wondered it would be like to do more than just that, to actually heal and save…" he trailed off, his eyes also turning glossy.

Cally waited a long beat before speaking, allowing him the space to get lost in history. "What stopped you?"

He shrugged, "Lisa wasn't ever into it, hard to earn a paycheck and be in med school."

"God forbid she help support you," Cailin mumbled, knowing full well Clarke could understand her.

He smirked, "that too, but that's all water under the bridge now, isn't it?' He adjusted his pillow, lying back down.

"Why?" she asked, pulling herself upright even as he sunk back into the bed.

"Why what?" he asked, his brow furrowed quizzically.

Before she could think through the consequences, the words tumbled over her lips, "why couldn't you be a doctor? Gabby was all gearing up for med school before she decided to become a candidate. You have to have as much experience as a paramedic, they aren't getting shot at...usually," she finished with a wry grin.

Clarke ticked off the reasons on his fingers, "Gabby is a decade younger than I am, med school is expensive, I just became a Lieutenant, we barely see each other as it is, I'm not going to ask you to support both of us-"

His words broke off as Cally swung her legs to either side of him, gripping his arms and staring deep into his eyes. "I am not listening to nonsense. So what you are older than the typical med student, you have life experience, as a Marine, as a firefighter...that has to be worth more than doing keg stands as a spoiled undergrad! As far as expense, don't you still have your GI bill? And while I am super proud of you becoming a Lieutenant, you and I both know that life is short and there isn't space for regrets. If you want to do this, we will make it work, even if I have to sit for the Sergeant's exam and take a desk job!" Her nostrils flared as she finished, her jaw clenching as she waited for his response.

"You would be a nightmare at a desk job, babe," Clarke finally replied, cracking a smile before pulling her down so their lips could meet, flipping her over in one deft motion.

Tangled in the sheets sometime later, Clarke stroking Cally's back as she nestled into his side, he cleared his throat before saying, "you really okay with this? You don't think it is just some crazy trauma induced idea?"

She looked up at him, blowing her hair out of her face. "So what if it is? Can't hurt to look into it, see what's possible. I want you happy, Jeff, I don't care if it is wearing a bunker jacket or a white coat. Besides, can you imagine how estatic my mother will be if I end up with a doctor?"

"Well as long as Mary Margaret is happy," Clarke replied with a laugh, already running scenarios is his head.

**Chapter Six: Back to the Flames**

"You working or looking up Barbie's dream house, Callahan?" came a sarcastic voice behind her.

Cailin jumped, she was looking up real estate listings, though she and Jeff hadn't really done much beyond her moving her five boxes in the day after he suggested it and painting the condo. With the prospect of Jeff going to medical school, a lot of things were far less settled than they had been.

"Starting to feel like I should be looking up glue factories," she said, tapping her cane on the floor and clicking off the webpage, "happy to work if you have something I am cleared to do, sir."

"You ain't a damn lame mare, and we've talked about the sir thing," Voight said, shaking his head. He hated her looking at him with those damn big baby blues like someone had kicked her puppy. He much preferred feisty, fighting to keep it under control Detective Callahan.

Though both had their uses, and he was hoping to exploit that. "I gotta couple of kids trying to act like big shot 'bangers who saw more than they should have but Dawson and Halstead almost made them crap themselves and now they've clammed up. I need their info now, nice it out of them, would you?"

It didn't take her long; a couple of cans of soda and some candy bars, alongside sweet talking them and reassuring they weren't about to filmed for Scared Straight and soon enough they were pouring out their entire life histories.

If she hadn't heard it all before it would have been heartbreaking. Though she also heard enough to know that if anyone out on the streets knew what all these two had just given up, they would be dead before they made it back home. Which is how she ended up in a screaming match with Voight over his reluctance to put them under police protection.

"Jesus, no wonder Belden complained about you being a pain in the ass!" Voight roared when she didn't budge from in front of his desk, arms crossed over her chest.

"Come off it, Voight, it isn't like you haven't hustled other kids out-of-town and we won't even go into the pet projects of your past," she shot back, giving him a look.

Over the past couple of months, the friendship between Erin and Cailin had blossomed, both using each other as confidantes; a sisterhood formed in their male dominated workplace. Erin and Cailin were both taken aback by how honest they were with each other, talking freely about their pasts, professional struggles and fears about the future. So she knew plenty about Voight taking in the wayward younger Erin. "I'm just asking we hold them here for a bit until we can see what social services or their families can do to get them out of Vice Lords territory."

Voight worked his jaw, not liking her insinuation but admiring her gumption, it looked more like an IU detective. He was concerned over how much information she had gotten out of Lindsay, further proving his distaste for females being partnered. "Fine, you want to babysit, babysit; but let me remind you how much you've bitched about being stuck doing so in the past and I'm not calling in any favors for those two knuckleheads. You gotta figure it out yourself, smarty pants."

"Fine," she said, knowing it was the most she was going to get out of him.

She exited, taking note of everyone forcing themselves to look like they hadn't been eavesdropping. "Oh just stop it, all of you. I've been up here for a couple of months practically chained to the desk, and every single one of you has gone more than one round with him. If you think I am going to KO so easily-"

"I actually got an idea," Atwater spoke up, causing all the attention to turn his way.

"Of course you do," Ruzek muttered under his breath, still adjusting to not being the new hotshot in IU.

"I'm open to anything," Cally said, glaring at Ruzek before moving to sit next to Atwater's desk, "whatcha got?"

Atwater shrugged, looking slightly abashed, "so most of the people I grew up with, they didn't want to get out, but I did. Or I did once I did this thing after I got picked up trying to steal a pair of Air Jordan's. It's like this wilderness thing to teach independence and responsibility and stuff."

"Are you telling me you were an Outward Bound kid, Atwater?" Cailin said, giving him a knowing smile.

"If that's what you want to call it," he said, taking in her smile, "anyway, I still got my instructors number, he's one of the directors now, if you want it."

"I would kiss you if it wouldn't make the rest of these mugs jealous," she replied with a wink, "give me that number stat."

A couple of hours later she had the two wannabes ready to be shipped off to the Minnesota wilds for the next month and was trying to not smirk too much at Voight's sour look at her quick solve.

Erin stirred the pot further, flashing her dimples at her mentor with a "stop looking like someone pissed in your corn flakes, Hank. You got your info and two kids are getting a second chance, thought you liked when that happened," before flitting off to dinner with Kelly.

Cailin was on her way home when a text from Jeff made her alter her route, stopping at Molly's instead. She broke into a broad smile, seeing him sitting at the bar sipping on a pint, but stopped short as she spied a familiar figure slumped next to him deep into a bottle of wine. Her eyes caught Jeff's over the brunette's head, but he just gave the slightest shake of his head and went back to drinking his beer. She looked at Hermann behind the bar, but he avoided eye-contact, pretending to try to find something on the television.

"Gabs, what's going on?" she asked, sitting next to her friend and pouring her own glass of wine. "Did something happen with Matt?"

Gabby shook her head, taking a long drink of wine before saying, "no, he's okay."

Cailin waited patiently, she had been with Antonio all day, so she was guessing it didn't have anything to do with the Dawson family…

"It's this," she said, finally, pulling a letter from her pocket, unfolding it and dropping it on the bar.

Cailin spied the familiar letterhead from HQ. "May I?" she asked, gesturing towards it. Gabby nodded.

Cailin picked up the letter, wondering if Gabby had somehow been DQ'd since the blast. She scanned the letter, information jumping out at her. 'Must accept position as candidate or repeat…Austin slot filled…'

She set it back down and looked at Gabby sincerely. Her friend had less than a week to find another house to join as a candidate or she would have to go to the back of the line and start all over again. To make matters more complicated, her spot at Austin had been filled. She wasn't shocked the jerks over at Austin had gotten someone else in, certainly male, but she was ticked they hadn't at least called Gabby to give her a heads up. She realized both Hermann and Clarke were staring at the two women, wanting to know what was going on.

Gabby shook her head, hiding in her glass of wine, gesturing toward Cally. "She has to start as a candidate or it's back of the queue and Austin gave her spot away. HQ needs to know where she's going by Monday."

"What about 51, we're still running short," Hermann suggested.

Clarke gave the other Lieutenant a look, "band-aid fix, Hermann, besides Boden wouldn't go for it."

Gabby's expression went from hopeful to dour as she turned from man to man and then finally gave Cally a look.

But Cailin had to agree with her guy and not just because he was her guy; it would be a very temporary fix and one that probably wouldn't fly.

She was about to attempt to placate her friend when Clarke spoke up again. "Apparently two shifts were more than enough for the candidate on my truck, he wasn't really about scrubbing toilets and showers."

"And they don't even see as much action as the ones at 51," Cailin muttered, causing Gabby to sputter wine across the bar.

Clarke gently squeezed her thigh under the bar while Hermann glared at the now laughing women as he mopped up the bar. "My point is, I got a candidate spot that could use filling, but no special treatment, Dawson."

Gabby's face lit up, a smile spreading across it, "really, up in Roger's Park?" She practically bounced off her seat, almost launching herself at Clarke to give him a hug until she saw him tense. She skidded to a stop, forcing her expression to one of seriousness. "That would be excellent, Lieutenant, sir," she said with a salute.

"You don't need to go that far, Dawson," Clarke teased, raising his pint toward her and hitched his thumb toward Cally, "despite this one's beliefs, I am not a drill sergeant."

Gabby settled on hugging Cally, kissing her on the cheek and saying, "I'm going to head home and tell Matt the good news!"

"Let me call you a cab first, Dawson," Hermann replied, pointing at the empty wine bottles.

"Did you know what that was all about?" Cailin asked after the cab picked Gabby up and they sat finishing their drinks and she caught him up on her day.

Clarke shook his head. "Nope. Hermann called me looking for you or Shay when Dawson came in like that and started drinking straight from the bottle. She wouldn't say a word to either of us."

Cailin hooked her leg around his, moving her bar stool closer. "Thanks for doing her a solid."

"She'll make a great candidate. I gotta be fair though, and depending on how Saturday goes, it might not be a forever fix," he said, giving her a look.

Cailin knew what he meant; he was taking the MCAT this weekend, which he had been fervently studying for. She gave him a grin, no doubt in her mind that he would knock it out of the park "wouldn't want you any other way, cowboy. Now can we go get some food? I'm starving."

"Good thing I was already cooking dinner when Hermann called then, huh?" he replied, giving her a little grin.

"You might just be a keeper, Jeff Clarke," she replied, leaning in and kissing him.

"Ah, geez, would you two take that out of here? I don't want you scaring away the regulars," Hermann teased from behind the bar.

The pair mock glared at him saying, "We are your regulars," before happily complying and heading home.


	3. Burning the Edges

**Chapter Seven: Burning Edges**

"This summer can suck it," Cailin remarked, sitting at the bar at Molly's one with Erin and Antonio, the only IU members she could convince to join her for more than a drink, after a particularly grueling week, but at least she had been cleared for duty and hadn't been kicked out of IU.

"Agreed," Erin and Antonio echoed, raising their glasses to hers.

"Can't wait for it to be over," Erin added. The summer had been long and bloody and they had worked non-stop after the homicide rate crept near all time highs.

And that was just trying to keep the Mayor happy, to say nothing of the Russian mobster they were trying to pin down who was trafficking in girls and the joint task force they were 'working' with the FBI. Which basically meant they were tasked with all the grunt work on digging up intel on some Eastern European syndicate that was skimming credit card info at bars and restaurants in the toniest areas of the city and using the proceeds to capture their own corner of the Vice market.

"Hey why don't you practice for your new gig and mix us up another round, Callahan," Antonio teased, shaking his empty glass.

Cailin was about to go undercover as a bartender in one of the target bars responsible for the majority of the skimming, thought to be the head honcho's den.

"Off the clock, 'Tonio, flag your sister down," she said, gesturing to Gabby at the other end of the bar where she was chatting with Joe and his new-old girlfriend, the very same Taylor that Cailin had thrown up on upon coming to in the hospital after she was shot.

That had been an awkward re-introduction the first time Cruz brought her in; but the woman seemed intelligent and funny and Joe Cruz was looking more and more like a teddy bear each passing moment he spent with her.

"Cally doesn't need any practice, trust me," Erin said, tossing her head back in laughter thinking about their last girls' night. Shay, Gabby and Katie Severide had joined the pair of detectives to compete with the boys' night that had left them all single for the evening. Cailin decided to work her way through a couple of chapters of the Joy of Cocktails and they all ended up three sheets to the wind and laughing uncontrollably while playing 'can you top this' with their worst dates ever.

"Girl, put those dimples away before you get every guy in here sniffing around us," Cally teased as Antonio moved down to get his sister's attention.

"We have badges and guns, I think we'll be okay," Erin quipped, but gave an ice-cold stare to the pair of bros who had started to make their way over as soon as Antonio vacated his stool. "Not gonna happen," she admonished, perking up as the door to Molly's opened and a trio of CFD Lieutenants walked in. As exasperated as she was at Kelly's antics and moodiness, she still couldn't help how she felt whenever she laid eyes on him.

"Great, now I'll never get a refill," Antonio remarked as his sister also zeroed in on the newest arrivals.

The change that came over all three guys as soon as they caught sight of the women was immediate, and each caught the same look in the other's eyes.

Severide gave a small snort, "Jesus! Whipped much? You, I'm not shocked at all," he said, lightly punching Casey's arm, "little more surprised at you, jarhead," he continued, cutting off as the other man's eyes narrowed. "Well I'm beat, and gotta see how much trouble I am with the good detective," he said moving toward where Erin Lindsay had secured a table for them.

Clarke could tell Severide's energy was still not back, not to mention his mood had been mercurial throughout the evening. He and Casey had exchanged a few looks over the other Lieutenant's head.

It didn't take long for Erin and Kelly to disappear from Molly's, barely even taking time to say goodbye, almost running over Shay as she was coming in with an unfamiliar woman.

"Someone must be feeling better," Cailin said under her breath, Clarke snickering beside her. "You get the scoop on this on any of your fishing trips?" she teased.

"The point of fishing is not talking, babe," he said, shaking his head with a smile.

Though to be honest, when he mentioned he was going fishing one night at Molly's and Shay asked to come along, he almost fell off his bar stool.

"Well it's not like you have to worry about me needing any pit stops," she replied, trying to make light of her now permanent colostomy bag.

Apparently Shay had grown up going fishing with her father, and had missed it since the old man stopped talking to her when she came out. Clarke was more than happy to bring her along and it become a habit, the pair even making plans to try to get a group up his cabin, assuming they could coordinate their various crazy schedules.

He enjoyed his friendship with Shay, and was glad to see her bringing someone in to Molly's. Despite what he had just said to Cailin, the other woman had admitted she was lonely, and was feeling more than a little lost since she knew her career as a PIC was over.

"I thought the point of fishing was day drinking," she shot back as she waved the pair over.

"Hey, guys," Shay said, coming up, her arm loosely entwined around the other woman's. "Guys, this is Ana. Ana, this is Jeff and Cailin, though you'll mostly hear them called Clarke and Cally, just like they won't call me Leslie."

Ana stuck out her hand, offering up a firm shake saying, "nice to meet you both. So what do you call Leslie?" she asked, looking slightly puzzled.

"Shay," the pair said in unison, leaving Shay rolling her eyes.

"You two might be spending too much time together," she teased before turning to Ana and explaining, "He's firefighter, she's a detective. We do the last name thing even off the clock. A lot. Besides it feels weird calling him Jeff…" she trailed off making a face, "what are we drinking?" she asked as Ana nuzzled up to her.

Cailin and Jeff exchanged a look, not wanting to intrude. "Actually, I think we are going to head out, got this UC thing to prep for," Cally said, raising her eyebrows are her friend. "But you two have a great night, even though I think you may have to be your own bartender." She gestured to where Gabby had come out from behind the bar and seemed to be having an intense conversation with her fiancée.

"Well that is one benefit of ownership, and may be my new full time gig," Shay replied, ducking under the bar. "Get home safe, you two," she said waving the two off.

* * *

"How was Severide tonight?" Cailin asked when they got home, not knowing if she wanted the answer.

Clarke shrugged, "up and down. You know how it is, fine one second, raging the next."

"I know it is normal, but I wish he would talk to someone, he is so freaking stubborn!"

Clarke laughed, giving her a look. "Really, babe?" he teased.

"Yes, I know I am stubborn, but I knew when I needed a lifeline and even you, big bad Marine, knew when you were in over your head. I know Erin is trying, but I'm beginning to think she is close to the end of her rope." She pursed her lips and shook her head, looking up at him with wide and serious eyes. "I don't think I tell you enough how lucky I am to have you."

He shook his head, rubbing his thumb along her cheek before kissing her, "luck has nothing to do with it, Cally."

"You're okay with me doing this UC gig, right?" she asked, curling up in the corner of their sofa.

"You're mixing a few drinks and keeping a few drunks in line while gathering intel. You'll probably be safer there than you are out on the streets, Cal," he said, trying to reassure her. "Besides it'll give me time to study."

"I know, but basically it means I am working two jobs and with you back up on 25…" she trailed off, "wait a second, study? Does that mean what I think it means?" Cailin looked up at him expectantly.

He smirked, pulling the letter out of his back pocket, sliding it towards her, nodding. "Yep, looks like that new three year intensive program at UIC really was interested in my 'real world' experience."

Her eyes grew wide as she read the letter, filling with tears of excitement. "Oh Jeff, this is awesome! I knew they would have been stupid not to take you!" She flung her arms around his neck, straddling him and covering him with kisses.

"I got accepted to med school, babe, I didn't win the lottery," he said with a laugh.

Cailin turned serious at the statement, they had talked about how Jeff going back to school would change their finances but she also was just now realizing what else it meant. She pulled back looking at him. "So when are you putting in your notice?"

A sly smile spread across his face as he tucked her hair behind her ears. "So this shacking up with a Callahan thing really has its privileges."

"Even though I leave wet towels on the floor still?" she joked, wondering where he was going with this, sensing it had something to do with one of her brothers.

"Seems Connor knows some brass that agreed to let me stay on as a weekend relief Lieutenant. That'll keep me in some salary and benefits until midway through Year 2. Between that and my GI Bill, I might not put us in the poorhouse doing this."

Cailin yipped, straddling him again. "You aren't going to put us in the poorhouse, Jeff, you are following your dream!"

"How about I go follow some other dreams first, before my girlfriend leaves me to go be some fancy mixologist?" he replied, giving her a knowing look and scooping her up to make their way to the bedroom.

**Chapter 8: Blue Flame**

Cailin took the scraps of fabric the manager gave her with a look of distaste on her face. Despite having done recon on the bar, Olinsky and Ruzek had failed to tell her about the 'uniform'. It seemed like a classy enough place from the outside, so she was more than a little taken aback when she was handed the two bits of black fabric that looked like they had come straight out of a Las Vegas lounge. Voight wasn't hazing her was he? No wonder Erin had opted for the Russian Black Widow gig.

"Look, wear it or leave; plenty of other girls looking for jobs in the city, Caitlin" Zuzanna, the manager informed her, using her UC name.

"Says the woman getting to wear pants," Cally grumbled as she headed towards the employee bathroom to change. She changed, sending an angry text off to her team, wherever they were. It was too early in the intel for them to bother with outside surveillance, not to mention they were still down a tech person, hence why Cailin was there and going old school. _Thanks a lot for the heads up on the uniform, guys. -C_

She stepped out of the bathroom only to be greeted by Zuzanna looking her up and down, a slight frown on her face. The older woman reached, practically sexually assaulting Cally after tightening her corset to put 'the girls' more on display. "Better tips, I promise," she said, her breath reeking of booze and cigarette smoke.

"My drinks speak for themselves," Cally shot back.

Zuzanna snorted, "oh, you're one of those fancy mixologists, huh? No wonder Frank wanted me to hire you, he's been competing with that ridiculous speakeasy place down the street."

Cally knew Frank was Franciszek Kosowski, the head honcho who supposedly had ties to the Kielbasa Posse in Philly, moving from bookmaking, loansharking and card skimming to dealing in X and a variety of prescription medications. This had been lucrative enough that they were trying to move into dealing heavier things, which is how they got on the radar of other gangs in town; the increase in card skimming was what caught the attention of the Feds and IU. The problem was, nobody seemed to know what enterprise Frank had his sights truly set on, which is why they needed someone on the inside.

Cally kept busy for the night, slinging plenty of drinks to a fairly diverse clientele; hearing plenty, just none of it actually useful to the case. She forced herself to not break the hands of more than a couple of bro types; reminding herself she was on the job, not filling in at Molly's. She did well enough that Zuzanna disappeared for more than a few smoke breaks. The other, clearly gay, bartender, Stephan, kept to the other end of the bar.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, taking careful note of every patron in the place, hoping that some of them would match the photos currently lining the boards up in IU and while there were plenty of Eastern Europeans milling about, none of them were on their watch list. Other than a few phone pics, she didn't get much other than her share of the tips at the end of the night.

"See, I told you, better tips. Get you a push-up and they'll be even better," Zuzanna remarked handing her a stack of folded bills.

She forced herself to not roll her eyes or grimace, tightening her jaw as she said, "I'll keep that in mind."

The other woman looked like she was about to say something more, but then a figure appeared in the hallway leading to the back office, beckoning her. "You can go, see you next shift," she said, all but shooing Cally away.

"Sure, I just need to get my stuff," she remarked, wanting a closer look at the figure in the shadows, it didn't look like Kosowski, but the man was definitely related. She moved toward the employee lockers, but Zuzanna caught her arm.

"Wait here," she demanded, quickly retrieving the clothing Cally arrived in, shoving it and her purse at her. "Get home safe," she said, staring Cally down. Stephan had already hightailed it out of the bar the second he got his tips.

Cailin forced a sunny smile, "totes, later," she sing-songed, forcing herself to walk out at a casual pace and not look over her shoulder.

Her phone was already buzzing, Voight calling to check in on her as soon as she turned the corner. "Didn't think you had eyes on the bar yet, sir," she said as soon as she was out of earshot.

"I don't, Callahan. GPS on the phone said you were on the move. You get anything?"

She made a face, of course the phone he gave her was tracking her every movement. Part of her was glad for the safety net, especially as she quickly made her way down the dark block toward transit, debating trying to flag down a cab. The other part of her was completely creeped out that Voight knew her every move. "Kicked out when some mug I'm betting is Kosowski's cousin showed up after closing. This is going to take some finessing," she explained.

Voight made a noise, not quite disappointment, but definitely frustration. HQ was breathing down his neck, nothing new, but he was hoping for something quick with this one since it involved the Feds, and he hated playing nice with the suits.

"I'm good, not a miracle worker, Voight," Cally said with a slight growl.

"It ain't you, sunshine, I just don't like the Feds in my sandbox. Briefing at ten hundred. Sit tight, would you?"

"Fine, see you then," she replied before knitting her brow, "wait, sit ti-" she started to ask before realizing he had already hung up. Her question answered when Halstead pulled up next to the curb.

"You just gonna stand there or are you going to get in?" he snapped through the rolled down window, looking less than pleased to be there.

"I didn't ask for a chauffeur," she said, wrenching open the door and glaring at him.

He smirked at her, "nice outfit, now get in, Callahan."

She flushed, mumbling about it being a uniform as she slid in and slammed the door shut. Luckily the streets were dead that late on a weekday night and Jay had her back at Clarke's in record time. "Sorry to ruin your night," she said as he pulled up to the building.

"It was a bad date anyway, probably saved me from doing something I would regret," he said, shaking his head and laughing.

"How's the Mikhailov case going?" she asked.

Jay's entire demeanor changed, his face going blank, his jaw tightening. "Slow," was all he said.

"No wonder Voight sounded too pissed, betting Erin is too. At least you both get to be full clothed," she remarked, slightly self-deprecating.

Jay just nodded, not knowing if he should say anything about Lindsay and her impending breakup with her fireman. He knew the two women were close but with them working separate cases, he wasn't sure they had a chance to talk since Severide had stood Erin up for what may have been the last time.

"Alright then, thanks for the ride. Really though, I'll make sure Voight knows that Goldilocks can make it home without getting eaten by a bear. See you in the morning."

* * *

She let herself in, trying to be beyond quiet as the clock crept toward 3 a.m. as Jeff had classes all day tomorrow. Today, Cally corrected herself. She stopped short as she entered the bedroom, the lamp on his bedside table on, Clarke deep in a textbook.

"Please tell me you weren't waiting up for me, cowboy," she said softly from the doorway.

He looked up, smiling as he marked his place in the book. "Nah, fell out for a while but-" he broke off, taking in her appearance, "um, you weren't wearing that when you left, were you?" Clarke hoped his tone was light as he took in the tight black corset and practically non-existent skirt. It wasn't that Cally didn't look damn sexy in it, it was that she did. And it was 3am and he had to be up in a few hours and how many guys had tried to put their mitts on his girl...

"Don't even start. Better than Hooter's, I suppose. Apparently it is the uniform," she replied, using air quotes around the last word. "I hate this case already. Nothing like working two jobs for the price of one, I doubt I'm allowed to keep the tips," she said, moving around to his side of the bed, sitting on the edge next to him. "Now can you help me get out of this thing, I don't think I've taken a full breath in like ten hours."

"Pretty sure I would do anything you ask right now, babe," he said, reaching for the ribbon lacing the corset together.

"Very. Funny." She felt the fabric give way, letting out a groan before taking in a greedy lungful of air. He couldn't help but laugh as he teased, "thought we talked about you making those kind of noises when I'm not responsible for them, Callahan." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her fully up on the bed on top of him. "Do I even want to know how many guys you had to beat off of you tonight?" he asked in between kisses.

"You string one bro up in a tree, the rest tend to stay away. They're like crows," she said, moving out of his arms with a glimmer in her eye, "don't tell me you are jealous, Jeff."

"I don't know if I'd call it jealousy, Cal. It's just I've barely seen you the past week and when I do see you, you are wearing practically nothing and it isn't because you've been with me all night," Clarke admitted as she slipped out of the scraps she was barely wearing and into one of his well-worn tees she had commandeered as a nightshirt.

"Olinsky and Ruzek failed to mention the lack of dress code, promise," she said, sliding in next to him, snuggling up to his side.

He looked down at her, his lips in a straight line. "Good to know. How did you get home without having to shoot anybody?" he commented.

"Voight sent Halstead to pick me up, he was super excited to drive Miss Daisy, let me tell you," she retorted. Clarke looked slightly taken aback; he was surprised Voight actually cared enough about any member of his team to worry about them getting home. The man moved up a fraction of a percentage point in his book. A tiny fraction.

Cailin studied him carefully, taking in his look of surprise and then the far off look he got in his eyes. She propped herself up on her elbow, poking him gently. "You really are okay with me going undercover, right, you get that is a big part of my being up in IU?"

Cally held her breath waiting for his answer. She had spent most of her career as a cop going undercover, it wasn't just her master's thesis, and it was how she climbed through the ranks so fast. Except ever since Doyle, since returning home, since Jeff had known her, she hadn't been under…except for that day he and Severide rescued her from that bathroom.

But she wasn't just thinking about that, she was also thinking about Antonio and Laura, recalling one of the first times she had really bonded with Gabby, talking about how strong her brother's marriage must be and now look at them. She and Jeff were only barely living together, and what if he said he wasn't okay with it? Clarke looked down at her, seeing the storm clouds pass over her eyes as she asked the weighted question. He hadn't fully figured out how he felt about her going undercover or working with IU. Strangely, he was somewhat more comfortable with her up in IU, the smaller team more close-knit, fiercely protective, and elite. In some ways, they were like the Marines.

He cleared his throat, "you need to do what you need to do, Cally, I get that. Better you be risking your ass with them watching your six than the numskulls you used to work with."

"I'm not sure that answers my question, babe, but it is beyond late and I have things I would much rather do than debate you," she said, giving him that little mischievous smile that made his heart immediately speed up and his blood pressure rise.

"You sure you don't need to go to sleep?" he teased, even as he was reclaiming his t-shirt.

"You sure you don't need to, Mr. Med Student?"

"Let's just call it studying for Anatomy…"

**Chapter 9: The Big Smoke**

It took more shifts than she would have liked before Zuzanna approached her, holding on to the bills she was handing Cailin. "You make good drinks, have nice face, people talk to you," she said, studying the other woman carefully. "You want to make more money?"

"I bought the push-up, didn't I?" Cailin replied, though the push-up bra actually concealed a wire, thanks to the new IT guy's clever tinkering. She bit her cheek to keep from smiling, knowing this may be their first break.

"Follow me," Zuzanna said, striding off with a purpose toward the back hallway. She paused in front of a door near the end of the hallway, punching in a code on the keypad, not thinking Cally was enough of a threat to bother trying to conceal what it was.

Apparently her dumb blonde act had worked, Cally thought, though she hated how easily it did. The older woman opened the door, it revealing a staircase that led to a basement, one that had come up on the building plans but the door for it wasn't where it was supposed to be in the storage room Cally had scoped out.

Storage racks filled the basement, plastic tubs, metal cages and wooden crates lining the shelves; speaking to the import and export of plenty of illegal items, from guns to animals to drugs and who knew what else. There also was what appeared to be half an electronics store, and possibly a server farm along one wall.

Cally kept her focus on Zuzanna, not turning her head, but still taking in everything in her periphery. Zuzanna knocked a pattern on another metal door, waiting for a buzz, as it was remotely unlocked. She gestured for Cally to wait, holding up a finger. Cally halted as Zuzanna entered the other room, taking the opportunity to surreptitiously get a few phone pics. "Come, meet Frank," Zuzanna said as she opened the door a few moments later. Cally nodded, adjusting her corset, getting a nod of approval from Zuzanna, even if all she was doing was adjusting the listening device.

"Ah, new girl, come in, come in," Franciszek Kosowski beckoned from behind his gleaming mahogany desk.

Cailin entered, trying to look nervous, though the tugging down of her skirt was not an act as the large man with the potato-shaped head leered at her. She forced herself to not glare at him; looking instead up through her eyelashes, shyly even as she took in the room around her, noticing a doorway behind him with another electronic keypad and a hulk of a man sitting in a chair in the corner behind her, clearly carrying. Zuzanna leaned against the doorway, blocking her exit while casually smoking a cigarette. Cailin tried to ignore the pounding of her heartbeat, her mouth going dry as her stomach flip-flopped. She could do this, she wasn't about to be made, and she hadn't even done anything yet. This was not New York; she was a good cop…she kept repeating to this to herself, barely realizing Frank had started speaking to her.

"But really a, what do they call it, victimless crime. Banks refund money, write off losses, no big, you get $100 a good card," he was saying.

Cally realized he was explaining card skimming, justifying the crime. "What if I get caught?" she said, finally looking at him, making her eyes as big and worried as she could. Which given twitchy trigger finger behind her, wasn't that difficult.

Frank just laughed, the light from overhead bouncing off his shiny, bald, head, his overly whitened, pointy teeth also glinting in the light. Cally wondered if that is how the bar got its name of 'Krokodile'. "Give them that look and lean forward a little and you don't have anything to worry about. Just make sure you leave lady's cards to Stephen and you'll be fine."

Zuzanna laughed from the doorway, cut off only by her hacking smoker's cough. She cleared her throat saying, "I've been watching her, Frank, like a little kitty-cat, this one; purring one second, claws when needed, she'll do well."

"Good work, Zu-zu," he said, giving her a smarmy wink. "Ivan, take her somewhere nice tomorrow night," he said, to the bodyguard in the chair.

Ivan grunted, Cailin used it as an opportunity to turn slightly, getting her first head-on look at the man. She was pretty sure he was the one she had seen her first shift at the bar. "Whatever you say, cousin," he mumbled, looking less than pleased at the request.

Cally realized Frank was staring at her again. "You have boyfriend, Cat-lin?" She just nodded, forcing herself to breath and swallow the bile rising in her throat. "Of course. But here, when working, you don't. He doesn't come by, doesn't call. Rozumiesz?" She got his meaning, nodding her understanding. "Good. You come early before next shift, Zu-zu will show you how to work machine. Now, you go." He waved her off, jutting his chin toward Zuzanna.

"Come," she ordered, Cally quickly following after, emerging on street level by way of a well-concealed door on the side of the building, one that was not on the blueprints.

She practically ran away from the building toward the blue line, wishing she hadn't begged off Voight's taxi service. She froze when she heard the sound of a car engine approaching behind her, hating her reaction, and feeling incredibly vulnerable. She was over Nansenko; it had been over two years ago. She clutched her phone as she turned around, wishing it were her gun as the car slowed to a stop. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw the woman behind the wheel.

"Erin," she breathed out, getting in. "What are you doing here?"

"Hank had a feeling you might be making some headway. Sent me as soon as you activated those," the other woman replied with a smirk, gesturing to Cally's cleavage, still slightly heaving as she fought to get her heart rate and breath back to normal.

"Shut up, Lindsay," Cailin muttered, before continuing, "but it's the middle of the night and aren't you working the other case? Great, now Severide's gonna be pissed at me."

"I am acutely aware of what time it is," Erin said, gesturing to her pajama pants and sweatshirt. "Severide isn't going to be pissed at you, Callahan, we broke up."

Cailin's jaw dropped open. "Hold up, you and Severide what?" she exclaimed. "How much have a missed being a stinking jigger jockey?" She sighed, feeling the weight of going undercover like she hadn't in the past. In the before it had been easy, her job had been her whole life. She wasn't missing major life events in the lives of people she cared about.

"I got tired of being the girl in the restaurant waiting for him to get his head out of his ass. It happens. We'll both be fine. He's actually up on some lake with your fireman and Shay. When is the last time you spoke to your boy, Cal?"

Erin's comment cut to the quick. She and Clarke has been worse than ships passing in the night. She usually got off so late it was early and he was often already up gone, or if she got home 'early' he was dead asleep surrounded by textbooks, highlighters and flashcards. He had been pretty good about hiding his annoyance at her constantly working, but she did now recall a vague discussion in predawn hours about him heading up to his cabin so Severide and Shay could lick their wounds.

"Well it still sucks, Er, I'm sorry." She shook her head, feeling foggy and out of it. She had been running for a couple of weeks on no sleep and it had taken everything in her to not have a full blown panic attack in that room with Frank.

"It's fine, Cal, we weren't attached at the hip," Erin said with something between a grin and a grimace.

Cailin studied her friend carefully as she pulled up to the curb, an inkling that many things were brewing behind the detective's pretty hazel eyes. "Well I am here for you, even though I'm well…" she gestured at her uniform.

Erin let out a small bark of laughter, "better you than me on that one. See you at the briefing in too few, Callahan."

"Ain't that the truth? Good night, Lindsay," Cally replied as she slid out of the car.

* * *

"Oh stop acting like a big baby," Shay admonished, wrapping the bandage around Severide's swelling ankle.

"What are you smirking at, Clarke?" Severide growled, slit eyes glaring at his former squad man.

Clarke shrugged, "I'm just saying, you pull all this hotshot crap at work, jumping out of windows, off ladders, into who knows what and are 'I'm all good, I'm all good' and you manage to slip on a dock getting into a boat and do this?" He gestured at the other man, lying supine on the ratty couch in the cabin.

"If either of you breathe one word about this to anybody back home, I swear to you…" Severide warned giving them a look that said it wasn't an empty threat. "Not even to Callahan, especially not Callahan; she'd tell Casey in a freaking heartbeat and then I would definitely never hear the end of it."

Shay and Clarke caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing. "That's it, get the hell out of here, both of you. I hope not a single damn fish bites all day!" Severide roared, adjusting the ice pack and waving them off.

"It's good to get away, I needed this," Shay remarked in the boat a while later. Clarke just nodded, thinking Severide's curse seemed to be coming true.

She made a face at him, hoping he would latch on to her statement. The problem with having a stoic Marine as a lesbro was that he didn't really force her to open up. Even when she was practically begging him to make her do so.

"Other than you've been dealing with the building explosion, your best friend being paralyzed, having a career ending injury yourself, Gabby moving up to my house in Roger's Park and getting engaged, neither Severide or I having as much time as we used to for you and Devon hightailing it out of town once things got rough?" He shot her a look, "did I miss anything?"

"Screw you, Clarke," Shay said, frowning at him before breaking into a smile. "You really do know me!" She tried to punch him playfully on the shoulder, almost capsizing the small wooden boat they were in. "Whoa, Nelly!" she exclaimed, sitting back down.

Clarke just shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"It has been rough lately, with you guys all happy and in love and stuff. Not to mention Gabby and her stupid wedding binder…" Shay trailed off, making a most disgusted face.

Clarke studied her, trying to figure how much was disgust and how much was jealousy or loneliness, when Shay let out a sigh.

"I'm lonely, Clarke," she admitted. "I told you about Clarice, right?"

"After too many tequila shots, yes, you told me all about her. She sounded like a real winner," he smirked. "Don't make me bring up the L word, Clarke."

He raised his eyebrows, "lesbian? Apparently she wasn't." He knew she was about to bring up Lisa, but he wasn't willing to go there, not with what was weighing on his own mind this trip.

"What I don't think I told you was that after that I wanted to have a baby." She let the statement lie there; searching for any reaction from her friend, and, of course, not getting one. "Kelly was all set to donate his swimmers until stupid Renee showed back up with a bun in her oven." She shook her head, her ponytail whipping around angrily, "which wasn't even his."

Clarke remained stone faced, he had heard bits and pieces of this saga during his time at 51, but had tried to keep his head down and nose clean, like usual.

"Anyway, maybe I've been thinking about it again, since that day…I know I still want a kid, but you don't know how awful it was trying to find a donor the first time around…" She looked incredibly dejected.

"I can only imagine. Though given some of the women I've seen you bring around, I am surprised your standards are that high, Shay," Clarke teased.

Shay scowled at him, "as bed mates, not to father my child, Clarke!" She paused, looking at him appraisingly.

Clarke stiffened, somehow knowing what was about to happen, but not knowing how to stop it.

"What about your swimmers?"

"What about them, Shay?" he asked, suddenly entranced with the shoreline on the other side of the lake.

"I mean if you aren't using them…" she trailed off.

Clarke shook his head, closing his eyes and debating tipping the boat over on purpose. "Who said I ain't using them?"

Shay let out a yelp before dropping her voice to a whisper, not that anyone was around. "Are you telling me Cally's pregnant?"

"No, she's not pregnant," he said, finally making eye contact, "but that doesn't mean I'm not using my 'swimmers' eventually, Shay," he finished using air quotes.

"Maybe she wouldn't mind," she pressed, though his glare told her otherwise. "Well it doesn't hurt to ask, it's not like you two are married." She caught the slightest twitch in his eyebrow. "Jeffrey Clarke, spill, now."

He studied her for a long beat. "I may have considered asking Cailin to marry me. We've talked about it, shortly before Boden's wedding actually."

"Uh-huh. I know you, Clarke, and you don't just considering things. So tell me, what's the plan? Is it better than Casey's right? I still got the number of that hot air balloon guy."

Clarke rubbed his forehead, already regretting this conversation. He was telling the truth, he had considered it. But Shay was right, he had done far more than consider it; already knew the ring and the day he wanted to ask. Except part of him was still a little worried she might say no.

"You're right, Cally isn't really a hot air balloon kind of girl," Shay said, tapping her finger on her chin, "something more low key, like you could drop a ring in her drink at Molly's. But then she might choke on it. You could show up at the precinct but Voight would probably ruin it for you. If you need me to go ring shopping, or find out her ring size, I'm really good at that, you can ask Gabby."

Clarke finally let out a laugh, "I'm all good, Shay. Got the ring, got it sized, even know when I want to do it…just gotta figure out how." He paused, "since apparently this is the trip of secrets, not a word of this to anyone. Not even Severide," he stared at her, warningly.

"Hold up, you already have the ring and know when and you are just now telling me about this?" Shay mocked being wounded. "I thought we were buds, Clarke!"

"Well it didn't seem like the thing to talk about while Severide was moaning about getting dumped. I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

She tried to glare at him, but her excitement got the better of her. "Fine, just do a better job than Casey did, would ya?"

**Chapter 10: Quest for Fire**

"It's swiping a few credit cards through a reader, Voight, I think I can handle it," Cailin snapped during the briefing meeting. All of IU was acting strangely, she had hoped getting further in with Zuzanna and Frank would have put them in better moods. At least Atwater and Halstead had taken off to meet with a CI, which would hopefully lead to taking out a couple of key Disciple members. Did Erin and Voight just exchange a look? Why were Olinski and Ruzek refusing to make eye contact?

"Just stay out of the damn basement, Callahan," Voight ordered.

She leveled a stare at him, "I'll do what I need to do to get the intel we need. Last time I checked this was the Intelligence Unit, right?

A vein began to throb in Voight's head, he started to turn red, opening his mouth, but Erin laid a hand on his arm before speaking. "You don't have backup, Cally, and it isn't like you can really hide a piece in that uniform. Just skim the cards, take some pics and keep your nose clean. Save the cowboying for Clarke, would ya?" Her hazel eyes caught on Cally's blue ones, warning her to stand down.

Cally took in the expression on her friend's face, debating seeing how much further she could push; but Erin knew Voight better than anyone, and her eyes were saying 'chill'. "Fine, nose clean, got it." She turned to the pair of men, trying to pretend they were sitting casually at their desks. "I'm guess you two will be stopping by as marks?" she asked, somewhat petulantly. They once again avoided her gaze, busying themselves with files and the computer. "Alright then, since this has been such a productive meeting and apparently I'm not allowed to know anything about your other case, I'm going to go maybe catch more than three hours of sleep, if that's cool with you," she said, giving Voight a look.

After yet another call went to Jeff's voicemail, she gave up; deciding she didn't want to be the nagging girlfriend, and decided to actually try to catch up on sleep. She hoped he was having a good time with Shay and Severide up at the lake, they all more than needed it. She made a mental note to check in with both Gabby and Matt before she fell into a deep sleep, though it was plagued with restless dreams falling barely short of nightmares.

Cailin arrived early to her next shift at the Krok, Zuzanna eagerly waiting to show her who to use the card skimmers.

"Frank, he liked you. That's a good thing. Other girl who worked here before you, she didn't know her place." She thought better of asking what happened to the girl before her, instead just pasting on a big smile and saying, "he seemed cool, and hey, money is money, right?"

Zuzanna just laughed, gesturing with her cigarette. "That is what I like to say."

She was most of the way through her shift when Halstead came slinking through the door, looking none too happy to be there. Cailin put on a show, Zuzanna close by. "Looks like you could use a drink, what's your poison, sweetie?" she said with a wink. It was enough to get Zuzanna to appraise Jay and give her a knowing nod and walk away. It had been her signal for whose card to swipe throughout the evening.

"Sweetie?" Jay remarked as soon as the bar manager moved away. "What are you, 80?"

"Bite me, Jay," Cally muttered under her breath, wiping at an invisible spot in front of him.

"I'll take a beer," he paused, "and a water."

Cally rolled her eyes, turning and reaching for a top shelf scotch and then pulling out an expensive bottle of water. "Big spenders get skimmed," she said in a low voice before saying, "that should make your night better, do you want me to start a tab?" Jay nodded, handing a card over. With both Zuzanna and Stephan out from behind the bar and it oddly quiet, she leaned toward Jay and said, "did this interrupt another date? Because you really do look like someone pissed in your cornflakes, Jay."

He took a drink of the scotch, having mostly ignored the water. "Nah, just sick of hearing Erin talk about how maybe she shouldn't have dumped her fireboy while staking out Mykola."

"You aren't jealous, are you, blue eyes?" Cally teased before saying, "who is Mykola?" She was trying to figure out why her gut twisted at hearing the name, her brain coming up blank.

Jay shrugged, "Erin is a big girl, she can sleep with whoever she wants. He's the boss of that Russian chick we've been tracking, the handsy one," he said with a shudder.

Cally pulled a rack of glasses from the dishwasher, putting them up as she said, "dipping your pen in the company ink can get real messy, real quick. Trust me on that, Jay."

He drained his glass, giving her a long look. There was something serious enough in her expression that he didn't argue. It was almost enough for him to spill the beans on Mykola, but Erin had threatened to relieve him of his testicles if he did so. He couldn't believe she and Voight thought they could keep the New York connection from Cailin. She was smart and relentless, not to mention a damn good detective. If she hadn't been so focused on this case and proving she was fine back out in the field, the jig would have already been up. He was about to say something when the other bartender came back in, reeking of cigarette smoke.

"Kinda dead tonight, huh?" Cally remarked, looking around.

"Yeah, actually think I'm going to head out since I don't think I am going to get any more," Stephen gestured to the scanner below the bar, "customers tonight," he finished. He took off, which kept Cally busy for the next while, Jay not moving from his spot, nursing his second drink.

Zuzanna appeared at her side saying, "Frank is entertaining some people downstairs, I am needed there. You alright here?"

Cailin nodded, taking it as a good sign she was being left alone while still wondering just what kind of entertaining Frank was doing downstairs. She forced herself to not look at Jay. "I'll be fine. Go, before Frank gets restless."

Zuzanna didn't reappear, leaving Cally to close up on her own. She caught sight of Ivan guarding the door to the downstairs, the way he was standing, hand itching toward the gun he had inside his sport coat made Cally's skin crawl. Something big was going on downstairs. She hustled Jay out of the bar, passing her key off to him as she said, "saddle up, get the team here, now. I'm going to see what I can find out downstairs. Once they are on their way, let yourself back in."

"Voight said to stay out of the basement, Callahan," Jay warned, not liking her rushing in.

"I know you like to follow orders, soldier, but I'm not missing out on an op because Voight said so. Back me up or don't, but I'm going down there," Cailin said, looking at him impatiently, wondering if they had sparked Ivan's attention yet.

He knew she wasn't letting up, bending down and removing his backup piece from his ankle holster. "Try to find somewhere to stick this at least," he said, handing her the .22.

She took it, grumbling about sticking it, tucking it into the back of her corset. "Surprised you could fit that in those skinny jeans, Halstead. See you soon."

"Be smart, Callahan," he said with a small salute before jogging off.

"Man giving you trouble, Cat-lin?" Ivan asked, stepping out of the shadows when she walked back in.

Cailin smiled and shook her head, "nothing I can't handle, just was getting a little overly friendly, I told him to not bother coming back; we already got everything we needed from him anyway," she ended with a wink. "Do you think Zuzanna needs any help?" she asked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, forcing the disgust down as she batted her eyelashes at him.

Ivan stared at her, looking more into her cleavage than her eyes, a salacious grin spreading across his face. "I'm sure Frank wouldn't mind an extra set of…hands," he said, giving Cally a wink of his own, punching in the code on the keypad and swinging the door open.

He followed after her, as Cally had hoped, making it easier for Jay to slip back in unnoticed. She just hoped he wouldn't take too long. Despite wanting to prove herself to Voight and get a win for IU, she knew she was acting hastily. It was something she had done plenty of times before in New York, but things were different now. She didn't have Doyle knowing her every move before she even made it.

No, she had Clarke, waiting at home for her. Something she wouldn't trade for the world. She could practically hear him telling her to watch her six, knowing she was doing anything but. Cailin stumbled slightly on a step as guilt washed over her.

"Careful," Ivan said, wrapping a meaty paw around her upper arm.

Cailin shivered at his touch as she made her way down the last couple of stairs. She took in every detail of the scene before her. It seemed like a hybrid between a guy's poker night and a high-end silent auction. Women and men in designer duds, though all of them looking like Euro-trash were milling about the basement, or seated at tables playing cards. Wares were displayed on the racks, ranging from jewelry and handbags to electronics to bottles of pills to guns; tablets next to them displaying the current bids. She turned the corner, half expecting to see a string quarter playing, as it almost looked like some bizarre high-end gala. Except bizarre was the only part of that supposition was true, cages containing exotic and endangered live animals lining the wall.

"Such interesting creatures, aren't they?" Frank said, catching sight of her, pointing to a lemur, "like man, but not," he said, feeding it a slice of fruit. "How nice of you to join us," he said, studying her carefully.

She gave a small shrug, "Zuzanna said she was helping you and didn't come back up, just wanted to see if she needed help. Ivan let me down." She kept his gaze, adding, "I got a few cards, but I left the machine upstairs. Do you want me to get it?"

Frank waved her off, "it is fine, good work, Cat. I'll pay you later, but for now, join me for a drink, I'll even make it," he said with a bark of laughter.

She followed after him to where the bar area was set up, Zuzanna half-working, more flirting. The older woman gave her a sly smile, "I'm glad you came down. Did you make friends with Mr. Scotch?" She waggled her eyebrows and made a swiping motion.

"Of course," Cally laughed, hoping it did sound as brittle to them. They spent a few minutes making small talk, though much of it was in Polish, which Cailin didn't understand a word of.

Finally Frank paused at said, "Zu-zu, make me and Cat-lin something delicious, would you?"

Zuzanna narrowed her eyes at Cailin for a brief moment, before smiling and saying, "of course, Frank, for you, anything."

"No need to make me anything, I'll just have wine," Cailin said, gesturing to the sealed bottle next to Zuzanna, deftly moving in to open it herself.

"Please, Cat-lin, stop working, look around, tell Frank is there is anything you like, we might be able to work out a deal," he said, giving her a look.

Cailin forced herself to not retch, pouring a glass of wine and taking the opportunity to look around, hoping Jay was able to gather the team quickly.

There was a plethora of illegal doings happening in the room that they could pin on Frank, far beyond the scope of what the FBI even knew about. Not that they had done a damn thing other than bug Voight and Brass about updates, letting IU gather intelligence, probably waiting to scoop the case from under them. If they moved tonight, for once CPD might get all the glory. At least at first, but by the looks of it ATF, F&W, UCSIS, the FBI and who knows what other alphabet soup would be called in.

She gathered quite a few looks from the guests of Frank's bizarro soiree. Still clad in her uniform, she was wearing far less than every non-working girl there. Whether escorting by choice or employment, the women all gave her a chilly reception. She wondered if she was more likely to pull the revolver for one of them or Frank. The cold metal against her back was oddly reassuring, even if she knew she wouldn't be able to get to it easily. She hoped the gadget Mouse had rigged up was transmitting, and even more hoped someone was listening. Her heart rate sped up as she realized a card table, the dealer's back to the door, blocked the cellar service exit.

Frank's office door was open, turned into an impromptu cigar smoking room, but the door behind it was still locked. They still hadn't been able to figure out what was back there based on building blueprints. There were far too many people crammed down here and the chaos that was sure to ensue once IU bust in would probably result in someone get trampled, to say nothing of what might get released if any of those cages got knocked over. Luckily none of the guns on display seemed to be loaded, ammo in a separate section, though not far enough away for Cally's comfort.

She tried to ignore her pounding heart, her mouth going dry. Maybe she should just try to get some pictures, enough of the women were taking stupid selfies, what were a few more? Between that, the recordings, her statements and the swiped card planted from Jay were more than enough to put away Franciszek Kosowski and his burgeoning syndicate. Now how to call things off before IU busted in and caused a stampede?

Cailin didn't get a chance to figure it out, a bear of a man charging out from Frank's office, having first exited from the secret room behind the desk. He looked like Steven Seagal and The Rock had a little brother, except that little brother was on steroids, loved black leather and was clearly packing. He paused by Frank, saying a word that even Cally could figure out. "Intruz." Intruder, Jay had probably let himself back in. She went to reach for the revolver, trying to snake her hand up her corset but was stopped by Zuzanna's hand, surprisingly strong for such a slight woman, locking around her forearm.

"You should go, now," Zuzanna said, leading her toward the card table and the service cellar.

"Wait," Ivan said from the stairs, causing both women to turn along with half the room. Standing halfway down the stairs were Ivan and the bear man, Jay tucked between them; it was then Cally noticed Ivan was clutching a gun with a silencer.


	4. Fire down below

**Chapter 11: Fire Down Below**

Cailin's heart froze as her eyes met Jay's.

"Oh look it's Mr. Scotch," Zuzanna said, narrowing her eyes at Cally, "do you know him?"

"Just from tonight," she lied, hopefully convincingly. Jay's appearance hadn't changed, which either meant his vest was on beneath his clothes or he wasn't wearing one. Cally didn't like what her gut was telling her. She hoped he at least had his service weapon, though his untucked shirt concealed any glimpse she tried to get.

"He was giving her trouble earlier," Ivan said, looking from Cailin to Frank, digging an elbow into Jay's side.

Frank shook his head, "everybody, go back to having good time, just a party crasher, nothing to worry about." He waved everyone off before coming over to Zuzanna and Cailin. "We'll sort this out in my office."

Cailin wasn't sure if that was better or worse, but just nodded, hoping to buy time. Ivan and the bear, who Cailin thought was named Alec, roughly escorted Jay into the office, disrupting the cigar smokers. Frank was on their heels, Zuzanna kept her grip on Cailin as they also followed close behind.

"Caitlin, you said you had boyfriend other night, this him, no?" Cally shook her head, thinking that wasn't the best way to play this, not after Frank's warning that her boyfriend never come by. She had a feeling if she admitted to breaking the rules, he would instruct Ivan or Alec to start breaking bones. "So you don't know him before tonight?" he pressed.

She caught Jay's eyes again, they were clear and focused, but beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. She desperately wished she had worked with him more, had some idea of what he was thinking and how they should play this. But he was smart and had Ranger training, so she was just going to have to wing it and hope for the best. "I don't think so, Frank, but you know these pretty boys, they all start to look the same after a while," she said with a roll of her eyes and a laugh.

This was enough to get Frank to laugh as well and get Zuzanna to drop her hand. Cailin refused to breath the sigh of relief she wanted to, they were nowhere near out of the woods. "What is your name, Mr. Scotch?"

Jay looked at Cailin for a long beat before sliding his eyes to Frank, "Kevin."

"You got a last name?"

"Hank."

Cailin gave a slight nod, Jay was telling her who was coming.

"Have you been in here before, Kevin Hank?" Frank pressed, looking from Cailin to Jay, still not completely sold.

Jay shrugged as much as he could, "probably, I think my friend Adam likes this place. Cute girls, strong drinks," he finished with a smile, playing it as cool as a cucumber, "and that's about it."

Three of them, three of them were coming; though with this crowd, they could use all hands on deck. Cailin was trying to do mental math in her head on how long it would take them to meet up and formulate a plan. How long had she been down there?

Apparently long enough judging by what happened commotion coming from the outside room could only mean one thing, the cavalry had arrived.

* * *

Things happened in quick succession: surprised yelps and screams from out front, Ivan's grunt as Jay elbowed him and the quick succession of fists meeting their mark as he unarmed him, the echo of the steel door being kicked open to whatever lay behind Frank's desk, Alec barking something to Frank as he rushed him through the doorway, Cailin fighting to free the revolver from her corset as she heard a familiar zing. She froze for the briefest of seconds, enough time for one of Zuzanna's hands to yank bank on her hair and the other arm to snake around her neck.

Once again, she found herself with cold, sharp, metal pressed against her jugular. But this time, the holder of the blade was a slight Polish woman with a three pack a day habit and Cally wasn't going down without a fight. She shoved both her elbows back, meeting with the women's ribcage stepping back at the same time, letting the heel of her ankle boot meet the delicate arch of Zuzanna's foot, surprised when the woman didn't drop the butterfly knife. But she had dropped her arm from around Cailin's neck and from her hair. Which was enough for Cailin to spin around, finally freeing her gun in the process it and point it at Zuzanna. "Chicago PD, drop the knife, now, Zuzanna."

Sadly, Zuzanna wasn't going down without a fight either. She lunged at Cailin, whipping the blade around with practiced ease. Cailin jumped back, her hand still wrapped around the trigger of the revolver, ducking as Zuzanna tried to slice and dice her.

"Drop it," Cailin ordered, even though she knew the other woman wasn't about to give up. She aimed, the bullet grazing the woman's shoulder, jarring her backwards despite its small caliber. The knife finally came loose, clattering across the floor. Cailin slammed her foot down on it, staring down at Zuzanna who was pressing her hand to stem the blood now flowing from her shoulder.

She looked up at Cailin with pure hate in her eyes, "you bitch, you shot me!"

Cailin looked down at her, anger replacing the blood in her veins. "I barely winged you and I told you to drop it. Plus, didn't anyone ever tell you to not bring a knife to a gun fight?"

A strangled bark of laughter came from Jay, who had finally wrestled Ivan to the ground and had cuffed him, his service weapon trained on the man as he moved over to the doorway behind the desk. "Crap, there's another staircase in here," he swore, seeing the room empty of any occupants. "Where does this lead?" he yelled at Ivan, moving back over to where the man was still prone on the floor.

"To your mother's house," Ivan said, spitting in Jay's face.

The door to the office burst open behind them, Atwater standing there.

"You okay?" Jay asked, wiping his face off, noticing Cailin still had the revolver pointed at the woman on the floor, though she was shaking like a leaf.

"I will be when we cuff her and find Frank," Cailin replied, cursing herself as her voice cracked.

"I'm going up," Jay said, gesturing as he went tearing off toward it.

Atwater moved next to Cailin, glaring at Ivan who was trying to get back up, despite being cuffed. "Callahan, I can't cuff her if you don't lower that revolver," he said, noticing how her hands were trembling.

"What?" Cailin asked, looking at him like he was speaking a foreign language.

"Put your damn gun down," he said again, reaching out toward her.

She stiffened before realizing she was still two-handing the gun. She dropped her hands, it dangling from her right hand, watching as Atwater made quick work of handcuffing Zuzanna and hauled her out of the office.

She followed after them, barely taking in the chaos around her. Her running commentary as she was wandering around earlier must have been heard, because SWAT had joined the party as well. While it looked like many of the 'guests' had gotten away, several of them were sitting on the floor with their hands zip-tied behind their backs.

Voight was nowhere to be seen, but Ruzek was working to try to convince some of the animals that had gotten lose to get back in their cages. A horrible screech sounded from above as a monkey went for Ruzek's head, in full attack mode. Cailin reacted with pure reflex, popping two rounds into the simian's body before it could meet its mark.

His eyes met hers, in both shock and wonder as she dropped the gun. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, her eyes glazing over, "except I just killed an endangered monkey."

"I wasn't asking about that, Callahan, I was asking about that," he said, pointing to the gash through her corset and the bloody wound exposed beneath.

"Just a scratch, I'm fine," she said, not feeling any pain even as she wiped the blood away. "Let's find Frank."

* * *

She made her way back through the office, to the anteroom; a room that Cailin now realized was a high-tech security room, not just of the Krok, but also Frank's other properties. Cailin took the stairs first, Atwater and Ruzek hot on her heels. They emerged on the side of the building; another door painted to look like it was part of the wall.

The building bathed in red and blue flashing lights, increasing as the alphabet soup of agencies arrived. The only law enforcement seemingly not represented was Voight and Halstead.

"There," Atwater said, pointing up the block where two figures hovered over a third in the middle of the street.

The trio ran up, seeing Voight doing chest compressions on Franciszek Kosowski, cursing up a storm. "You ain't damn well dying on me, Kosowski. You're giving me the info I need and then you are going to rot in prison, you sack of shit!" he swore as he kept pressing down. Halstead was barking on his cell phone, giving a description of the car Alec was driving as he dumped Frank's body out into the street.

They had to jump out of the way as the ambo squealed up, quickly loading Frank inside. Voight climbed

inside, pausing to look at his team. "I'm going with him to see what I can get. You all know what to do here, but then I want all your asses back at the precinct to sort through this mess." He stared directly at Cailin as he said this, his expression one that she couldn't entirely discern.

The scene was a mess, literally because of the stampede of people trying to get out and figuratively because of all the agencies fighting for a piece of the pie. Dawn was approaching as Cailin saw someone trying to haul two familiar faces away.

"Those two are coming with us," Cailin demanded, pointing at Ivan and Zuzanna, stepping in between them and the FBI Agent trying to haul them off, "the rest of them are all yours."

He looked her up and down, still in her 'uniform', with a CPD windbreaker Halstead had thrown at her. "And you are?"

"Detective Callahan, IU," she said, glaring at him.

"Wasn't sure, didn't see a badge, not sure how I could have missed-"

Her switch flipped, "listen here, suit, I've been the one undercover, gathering intel on your employer's request. I'm the one that knew tonight was happening and called it in. I'm the one that had-"

"Okay, okay, sorry," he said, holding his palms up, "thanks for all your help. You might want to get that looked at though," he said, pointing to her wound.

She looked down, realizing it was starting to throb as her adrenaline high started to ebb. "Yeah, I'll go do that," she said before looking around and seeing Atwater. "Hey, Atwater, help me get these two to booking, would you?"

* * *

The trio was up early, ready to get back to the city. Not that they hadn't had a good time, but there was only so much you could drink and fish, and Severide kept bitching about his ankle. Clarke bet that had something to do with the other man's realization that he let a good woman get away because of his own stubbornness.

They all had needed to get away, needed a chance to vent about things and not be reminded of the day of the blast with every boarded up building they passed. But Clarke would have much rather spent a weekend off holed up in the cabin with Cailin, he would bet every last dime in his bank account they wouldn't have left early.

"What are you grinning about, jarhead?" Severide asked from the backseat, Shay having claimed shotgun before they had even stepped out of the cabin.

"He's probably thinking about his girlfriend, about how he's going to-" Shay cut-off as Clarke glared at her, finishing feebly with, "show her how much he missed her."

Severide snorted, "whipped."

Shay scoffed, "you're just pissed because you can't hang on to anything worth having!"

"You're one to talk, Leslie," Severide warned, narrowing his eyes at Clarke's snicker.

The rode in silence, Shay messing with her phone before letting out a grumble. "Stupid girls won't text me back," she mumbled.

"As I was saying," Severide teased.

"Ha ha, very funny. I will have you know I have a blind date with an attorney next week!" she stuck her tongue out at him, Severide reacting by tugging on her hair.

Clarke remained silent, enjoying their bantering; it reminded him of siblings, of car trips with his brother, of what he could only imagine Callahan car trips had been like. Made him think about a SUV full of mini Clarkes bickering on the way to and from the cabin. Yep, proposing to Cally was the right thing, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Clarke, are you going to answer me or not? I think it is a fabulous idea and Kelly is being dumb, as usual," Shay said, rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out at her best friend in the back seat.

"I don't have anything against Clarke taking Cally to breakfast, Leslie. I just don't want to have to deal with Voight and Lindsay and the weekly IU briefing!"

"Well if gramps here would learn how to accelerate, we could get there before the meeting!" Shay chided.

"Be nice, beautiful" Clarke warned, though he did press down the accelerator, trying to remember the last time he and Cailin had shared a meal.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Walk Through Fire**

By the time they were finished in booking and made it upstairs, Voight was already waiting for them, Erin and Alvin having joined him as well. Erin's eyes flicked over the four of them, all looking haggard, Jay and Cally more so. It was then she spied the rip in the corset, the drying blood a stark contrast against Cally's pale flesh.

She shot Hank a look, knowing he was ready to lay into his detectives. "Hey, Callahan, let's hit the locker room and I'll bandage that up for you and you can put on some real clothes."

Cailin just nodded, feeling a little like she was floating outside her body, exhaustion overtaking her. She followed after her fellow detective and friend in a daze.

"So how did this happen?" Erin asked, surprised Cally didn't wince as she bathed the cut in alcohol.

"Angry Polish woman with a butterfly knife," Cailin answered as Erin smooth down the bandage.

Erin stood back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Pretty sure Hank said stay out of the basement."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure Hank," she stressed Voight's first name, giving Erin a look, "wouldn't have let an opportunity like that one slide by either."

"He's pissed," Erin said.

"What else is new?" Cailin retorted.

She cracked a small smile, her dimples flashing briefly. "He's pissed because you stuck your neck out. You could have been killed, Jay could have been killed. He was worried about you and Hank Voight does not do worried, Callahan."

"I can take care of myself; we got Ivan and Zuzanna, and Frank, assuming he didn't bleed out in the ambo, didn't we?"

Erin let out a long breath, blowing her hair out of her face. "I know this is going to sound hypocritical given my trying to deal with Charlie on my own, but we are a team up here, Cally. It isn't like VC where nobody wanted you there, where they didn't have your back. You don't have to go it alone!"

"I saw a chance and I took it, Jay had my back, I was wired and broadcasting, all is well that ends well, right?" Cailin argued, even though her gut told her she had hot-dogged more than she should have.

Something came over her, what she had been afraid would happen if she joined IU, that it would be like two years ago in New York; when she was willing to do anything to take down the bad guy.

"Only if it ends well," Erin said, staring at her for a long moment. "We should get back upstairs."

* * *

Burgess was on her way in as they were exiting. "Heard you guys had quite the night. Eastern European mobsters going down!" she quipped, gesturing downward with her index fingers.

"Something like that," Erin replied with a shake of her head. Cailin didn't respond as she followed her up the stairs. Voight and Erin exchanged a long look as the two women came back in. She gave the slightest shake of her head to let the man know her warning had fallen on deaf ears.

Voight clenched his jaw, he had been hoping the two could have a girl chat and Erin would get through to her. He should have known better. Callahan was headstrong, stubborn, driven to a fault. So much like Erin that way, but also like him with her sudden outbursts of anger and impulsiveness. Despite her innocent looks, there was a darkness in her that emerged without warning. Controlled, it was useful, throwing perps offt guard. But when, like tonight, it surfaced without forethought, things could turn ugly, quickly.

"What the hell were you thinking, Callahan? Wait, don't answer that, because clearly you were not. You have a master's degree in this exact thing; did any of your fancy research tell you that the stunt you pulled tonight was good police work? Because it wasn't. It was stupid and dangerous and it could have gotten you and Halstead killed," Voight raged, pacing back and forth.

"I was fine, am fine," Halstead tried to protest, even though he had wondered for a few seconds while that gun and silencer had been pointed at him. He just didn't want Voight to lose it on Callahan, he recognized the look in her eyes, knew she was holding on by a thread.

"Beside the point, Jay," Voight snapped, glaring at him before turning back to Cailin. "What part of stay out of the basement was so hard to understand, Callahan? Of course you go down and crash Europe's Most Wanted's equivalent of the Met Ball. You better be glad Kosowski made it through surgery," he said, jabbing a finger into Cailin's shoulder, causing the slightest of growls to rise in her chest. He looked at her, seeing her expression go from slightly dead to feral. "Atwater, roll out the damn boards so we can see where we are in this mess!" he ordered, knowing he had pushed as far as he could with the blonde detective as he could for the moment. He wasn't done with her about this yet, though.

Atwater rolled out the white boards, covered with a mess of mug shots, names, dates and places on the two cases IU had been working. The link between the two became clear.

"Alec," Cailin breathed out, seeing the man's mug shot on both boards.

"Alec Vargo, first-generation American, fourth-generation gangster. While he was providing 'security' for Kosowski, his real game was moving up the ranks in his family's business, trying to expand their empire from New York to Chicago. Historically it was heavy artillery and automatic weapons, but it seems Alec has a taste for young girls," Alvin supplied, his eyes heavy and sad.

"Though he doesn't discriminate in his dealings. Girls, boys, doesn't matter, as long as they can be controlled and won't be missed," Erin added, shaking her head.

"How do you know so much about him, tonight was the first time I saw him at the Krok," Cailin said, looking back and forth between the two boards, a pit of dread in her stomach.

"Oksana used Alec to supply girls for some of Mykola's private parties," Erin supplied, her hazel eyes falling heavy on Cailin's blue ones, before turning to Hank, not so much asking permission, as she was warning him as to what she was about to say. He just narrowed his eyes, working his jaw. "He's been doing so for the past couple of years," Erin said, taking a step toward where Cailin was standing, staring at the boards.

Cally stiffened as Erin did so, the names and faces that she had assumed were familiar only because they were similarly foreign now trigging memories she had shoved deep down into the recesses of her mind. The buzzing started in her ears, a high-pitched live wire, blurring her hearing and vision. She closed her eyes, willing it away, following the rise and fall of her breath.

"He filled in for Mykola's former supplier," Erin said quietly.

"Nansenko," Cailin breathed out, her stomach churning, the world tilting. "How long have you known?" she asked, looking from Erin to Voight, thinking about how weird everyone had been acting. Everyone averted their gaze, remaining silent. "God damn it, Erin! You cannot give me some big speech on having each other's backs and being part of a team and not having to go it alone and then not bother to tell me that the bitch you are tracking has ties to someone who almost killed me and did kill my partner!" Fury turned her eyes to ice as her face flushed and her fists clenched.

Erin stood her ground, legs hip-width apart, arms at her own sides, ready to take whatever Cailin was about to dish out; knowing that while her friend may have started over back in Chicago, it didn't mean her wounds from New York had completely healed and while she may be the target, Cailin's anger wasn't actually at her. The men in the room froze, wondering if a catfight was about to erupt in the middle of the room, unsure if they should intervene. Voight finally decided he should, practically dragging Cailin to his office, jerking his head for Erin to follow before saying, "everybody else, get your asses back to work and find Vargo!"

Cailin struggled against Voight's vice grip until he roughly deposited her in a chair. "What the hell, Voight?" she hissed.

"I'm not letting you turn my unit into mud-wrestling night at Hawthorne's, Callahan," he said, perching on his desk in front of the chair he had set her in. "Everything Erin said was true, we are a team and you shouldn't go it alone. I was the one who gave the order to not tell you about Nansenko, so if you want to take someone's head off, come at me; but I will lie you flat. I was also the one that gave you an order to stay out of the basement." He glared at her as she opened her mouth to protest. "I know you had to get a psych clearance after you pulled a gun on that doctor, I'm starting to wonder if you don't need another one. Jesus, Callahan."

"You would have done the same thing," Erin said from where she was leaning against the doorway, carefully observing the exchange. She could tell Hank was beyond pissed, putting people in jeopardy, disobeying orders, jumping out of line in front of everyone…except these were all the same kinds of stunts he pulled all the time. And she knew him well enough that she could also see the perverse admiration in his eyes. Same reason he hadn't put her out on her ass when she fought back as a teenager.

He barely glanced up at her, a raised eyebrow showing his displeasure. "Beside the point," he said, looking directly at Cailin. "You are damn good at what you do and are a good addition to this team, but you have got to remember you are part of one. Shit like what you pulled last night will get you and other people killed and I've already been to too many damn funerals. I don't give second warnings, Callahan, follow my orders or get out of my unit. Understood?"

Cailin was surprised that there wasn't a menacing threat to his tone; in fact, it was more one of disappointment, mixed with something else she couldn't put her finger on. She knew IU was the only place that wanted her in the CPD and she wasn't ready to hang up her badge yet. She also knew that she did enjoy being part of the team, they were like 51 that way, more like family than co-workers. More than that, she knew she needed to be part of a team, this team. Not to mention she was feeling guilty and embarrassed. "Understood, sir, Hank, Voight," she corrected, her cheeks turning red. She craned to look at Erin, "I'm the world's biggest bitch."

Erin couldn't help it, she laughed at Cally's forlorn expression not at all matching her words. "Only when you need to be, Callahan. And we should have told you," she said, giving Hank a look, "but that is water under the bridge. And seeing as everyone is alive, so is what happened last night. So if you aren't going to sucker punch me, how about we go take down Vargo and Mykola?"

Cailin nodded, giving her friend a grateful smile. She owed her one, several, actually. She started to rise but Voight clamped a hand down on her shoulder.

"Not so fast, Callahan. Lindsay, go run the show out there while I debrief this one. Who is then going to see if she needs stitches," he said, pointing at the bloody spot on Cailin's shirt, "and then go home."

"Is that your way of telling me to go to my room and think about what I've done?" Cailin asked with a slight smirk as Erin snickered on her way out.

"Don't test me, Callahan. Now start from the beginning…"

* * *

Erin was in the middle of telling the rest of the guys what had gone down at her and Olinsky's meet the night before when Burgess appeared on the stairs, a familiar, if sheepish, male figure following close behind her.

"There's an FD Lieutenant here for Detective Callahan," she said, trying to avoid eye-contact with Adam.

Erin looked at Clarke with a close-lipped smiled before dismissing the other woman, "thank you, Burgess, I got this." The woman nodded, before practically running back downstairs.

Clarke looked around, notching both Cally and Voight were missing and his office door was closed. He tried to ignore the twist in his gut.

"Voight is debriefing Callahan," Erin said, gesturing with her head towards her boss' office.

"What do you mean debriefing Cally?" Clarke asked, his eyes pining Erin to her spot.

"Lieutenant, why don't we talk in here?"? she said gesturing to the observation room.

"Don't yank my chain, Detective, Cally's okay, isn't she?" Clarke asked, refusing to sit at the table even as the detective pulled out two chairs.

Erin looked at him a long beat, still choosing to sit, hoping he would mirror her actions because she wasn't the biggest fan of angry Marines towering over her. "Physically, she's fine, I think. She might need some stitches," Erin admitted, inwardly groaning as Clarke started to sit down and then jumped back up, heading for the door. "Clarke, wait, busting in on Voight is just going to make things worse for her," she said, pointedly.

"What the hell happened? I leave for a couple of days thinking she is just tending bar and, now what?" he said, his eyes a steel-blue flint.

"She was supposed to be just bartending, but the case got hot and she took an opportunity," Erin carefully replied. It was an ongoing investigation, and she didn't want to sell her friend and fellow detective up the river for jumping in without looking. "But that isn't the issue…her case tied with my case which has ties to New York, from a couple of years ago." Erin let the information sit on the table, hoping Clarke would do the math for her.

"To that bastard, I take it," Clarke replied, unable to say the man's name, a storm immediately rising in him. "Why does that case keep biting her on the ass?" he snapped, not expecting the detective to have an answer, just pissed off for Cally's sake.

"Luckily there aren't that many players in the big leagues, which means the same names keep coming up over and over again. She took the news better than I thought she was going to, especially considering we kept that little tidbit under our hats for a bit."

Clarke let out a bark of snide laughter, "oh yeah, I bet you she took that real well."

"Voight saved her from herself," Erin retorted. Clarke's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Don't look so shocked. I know you aren't exactly president of his fan club, but if Hank Voight lets you in and thinks you are worth a damn, he gets pretty damn protective."

"Am I supposed to be glad she's in this pack then?"

"There are far worse places to be," she said with a wry grin, "sit tight, Voight should cut her loose soon."

* * *

**Chapter 13: Low Flame**

Cailin stepped out of Voight's office, taking his tongue-lashing without flinching. She knew she deserved it; things could have turned out much worse than they did. She couldn't keep diving in headfirst like that. She had already made detective, she was already in with the best damn unit in all the CPD. Plus, she had a hot fireman who one day would be a doctor to come home to.

So why did she still feel like she had to prove herself and take stupid risks? Which was actually the gist of what Voight had to say. Sure he mixed in plenty of threats and gave her those reptilian eyes while giving her an administrative suspension for shooting Halstead's drop piece, but she was starting to piece together that he was also a little bit shaken by her rashness; as much as he could get shaken by anything.

She took in the silence of her IU teammates. "You can carry on, Voight didn't fire me, I'm still in IU, even if I am being sent home for three days," she said with a sigh.

"You've got a visitor," Erin said, motioning with her thumb toward the observation room.

She peered in, seeing Clarke sitting ramrod straight at the table, tapping his fingers against the top. She realized it was nerves he was worrying about her. She could see it clearly on his face, knew it had to be hard for him to be sitting in a interview room in a place where he had once been arrested. She practically yanked the door off the hinges. "Jeff," she breathed, cut off as he was already on his feet closing the distance between the two of them.

"Cally, what happened?" he admonished, even as he wrapped her in his arms.

She tried to not wince as she felt the wound Zuzanna had given her open back up, though he immediately noticed the blood on her, and now his, shirt.

"You're bleeding, is this what Lindsay meant about stitches?" Clarke said, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

"I'll be fine," she said, yanking it back down and stepping back, "even better if we can get the hell out of here before Voight changes his mind on not really being mad at me."

"No argument here," he said, following her out as she walked through IU with only the briefest of nods to the other detectives as she gathered her things.

"Lakeshore or Chicago Med?" Clarke asked as soon as they were in his car.

Cailin raised her eyebrows. "Depends on what we are talking about. Cafeteria? Lakeshore, hands down. Trauma surgery and nurses? Chicago Med. Why you thinking about your residency already?"

Clarke let out a small growl. "I meant where do you want to go to get that looked at," he said, pointing.

"It's just a scratch, Jeff. I just need to not re-open it every five seconds," she protested. He gave her a look, leading her to say, "I assume you brought Shay back with you. How was the trip anyway?"

Clarke nodded, "yeah, we all drove together. Fish stopped biting and Severide was being super whiny. None of that answers my question though, Cally."

She gave a half roll of her eyes, pulling out her phone and shooting off a quick text to her friend. The reply was almost immediate.

_Yeah, I can look, but what the hell, Cal? You were just supposed to be going to breakfast!_

She smirked before saying, "head to Shay and Severide's. No hospital needed when you have former Paramedic friends." Clarke's reply was another withering look, but he immediately change course in the requested direction.

"Eh, it isn't that deep," Shay said, surveying the wound. "Good thing you have good reflexes. It's just right where you bend, so you keep ripping it open. These should help," she said, applying several wound closures. "Which is too bad, because I was really wanting to use the skin stapler," she said, looking entirely disappointed. "I miss putting Humpty Dumpty back together again."

Cailin yanked out of her reach. "I'll try harder next time, Shay," she quipped, looking slightly horrified.

Clarke remained standing against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders tense.

"What, you questioning my abilities, Clarke?" Shay asked, giving him a look.

Clarke worked his jaw, "I didn't say anything, Shay."

"You didn't need to, Mr. Simmering Rage. Just because I am not on the ambo anymore, doesn't mean I forgot what I was doing. She is fine, cross my heart. I wouldn't say so if she wasn't, she's my girl too, Clarke," she replied, batting her eyelashes.

"Who is sitting right here," Cailin grumbled, knowing Clarke's med school knowledge, even just a few weeks of it, was at play here. But he was stubbornly refusing to tell anybody about his academic pursuits. She had a feeling it was because he was fearful of failing out, but she knew that was highly unlikely.

Both of them looked at her with wry grins. "You should be fine in a few days, just keep a watch, make sure it doesn't get infected," Shay said, patting Cally on the shoulder, "and maybe try to make sure she refrains from anything too strenuous, like no hot air balloon rides," she finished, giving Clarke a knowing look.

"Shay," he warned.

"What is strenuous about standing in an oversized basket, other than worrying about plunging to your death?" Cally asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

Her two companions both laughed, which made her confusion turn to frustration. "Glad you two had a great time away together. Can't wait to hear all about. But could it be over breakfast because I've been up for a million hours and don't remember the last time I ate."

Shay and Clarke exchanged a look. "I'm good, had some yogurt, but you two should go and then you should get some sleep, Cailin. Take care of her, Clarke, I'm holding you to it," Shay said with a smile.

* * *

They arrived back at the condo after breakfast, Cailin practically dead on her feet. "It's not up to military standards, Marine. Didn't really have a chance to clean," she said, shrugging out of her jacket and pulling off her shoes.

"It's fine, Cal, I wasn't expecting you to. I know this case has had you running ragged. Can't say I'm too bent over your admin leave," he said, dropping the stack of mail he had retrieved from the box before mirroring her actions.

"Shockingly, I'm not either. Next UC case I take, I am going to tell Voight to stick it if he expects me to work my regular job on top of it. I don't know how you are managing to be both fireman and med school student and why is it you aren't telling your best friends about an important part of your life?" she said between yawns.

He smiled at her, moving closer and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I think I understood all that, but why don't you go hit the hay before you swallow your face?"

"Because maybe despite this crazy damn case, I still missed you and I know you have school and given my unexpected days off, I can sleep tomorrow, so I would rather spend time with you now," she rushed out, looking up at him, feeling the weight of the night, the case, the memories pressing down on her.

Clarke was torn. He knew she needed sleep, knew she hadn't been getting more than a few winks here and there since she had been on this damn case. But one look at those baby blues pleading with him and he was in trouble. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Just catch a nap now, Cal, I won't let you sleep too long, I promise and I won't go anywhere further than a run. It'll probably take that long for me to get through the mail," he said with a smile, gesturing at the stack.

"Very funny, babe. I would argue, but I'm too tired. Which I guess means you are right. You better wake me up though, and I want to hear all about whiny Severide when you do," she said, moving in for a kiss, both of them giving into it, until Clarke suddenly pulled away.

"Go, sleep, now, Cally," he ordered, his voice tinged with lust as he stepped back and pointed at the bedroom, willing himself to not follow her. Yep, he really needed to take her up to the cabin next time instead. Cailin complied, though she griped all the way to the bedroom. But Clarke knew her well and she fell into almost a hibernation as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Wanting to give her a chance to rest, and to prevent himself from climbing into bed with her, Clarke decided to go for said run. Arriving back awhile later, he hit the shower after peeking in to see Cally burrowed beneath the covers, dead to the world.

He emerged from the shower and surveyed the condo, deciding what to tackle first. It wasn't awful, it was just clear they both had been busy. And so maybe Cailin wasn't as fastidious as he was, but then again, few people were. He gathered the trail of towels leading from the bathroom, throwing in a load of laundry before starting the dishwasher. The fridge was full, including a couple of trays marked for 51 and 102. He shook his head, wondering how she had found time in between working nights undercover and days in IU to cook for two firehouses. But that was Cally; for as much as she liked to portray the tough cop, she had a heart of gold for the people she held dear.

He finished straightening, picking up the stack of mail and settling in on the couch to go through it. Most of it was junk, as it usually was, hence why they weren't hypercritical about checking it that often. Paper bills that had already been paid online, a couple of magazines, flyers for events they would never be able to get to, and a letter from Logan Correctional Center…

Clarke froze, placing the letter on the coffee table, carefully, as though it might detonate. Once again the timing just seemed uncanny. Except there was no way she could know what he was planning. He had just told Shay, the first person he had breathed a word to about it. Sure, he was planning on talking to Connor, but he hadn't yet. What the hell was she playing at now?

He forced his emotions under control walking to the desk to retrieve a letter opener to carefully slit the envelope open. He withdrew the paper, wondering what sort of Pandora's box he was opening. He held the paper between his thumb and index finger for the longest time, unwilling to unfold it. Clarke set it down on the coffee table in front of him, running a hand over his face. He had packed this away already, locked it up tight. He had moved on, he was happy with Cally in a way he had never known before. Which is why he squared his shoulders and grabbed the paper off the table, snapping it open. She wasn't not allowed to have any power over him anymore. His eyes scanned the tight, neat cursive on the page:

_Dear Jeff,_

_I've been working a program since I got here and I'm writing to do what I can to set right the harms that I did not just when we were together, but even after. I'm sure that you were aware that during the years we were together I was an active addict. I am not saying that makes everything I did okay; in no way does it make me any less responsible for my actions. I used booze and pills and sex because to try to fill the emptiness I felt inside._

_When we were together, I ignored you in favor of my friends, and I took you for granted. I withheld attention. I withheld affection. I withheld sex. I slept with other men to hurt you, to get back at you even though you never did anything wrong; and yet I always acted like I was the one that had done nothing wrong. I was inconsiderate, passive-aggressive, condescending, and cruel. I know that was wrong, and I'm sorry._

_I know when you came back after your first tour I called you crazy, among other things; but know you weren't crazy, I was. You deserved love, honor, commitment, and every other thing I vowed. I couldn't give you those things because I was incapable of giving them. So instead, you got anger, disloyalty, unfaithfulness and abandonment. You are worthy and deserving of love then and now, it was I that failed you._

_I failed you the entire time we were together, and even after. I wasn't honest that day I came to the firehouse. I heard you were getting close to someone, really close, and I was jealous. It wasn't that I wanted you; I just didn't want that detective to have you. I wanted control. I was so miserable and I couldn't stand the idea of you being happy, of feeling all the love that I couldn't. Which is also why I let you try to take the fall for Brian. I knew you would be loyal, honorable, courageous, committed…you always were. I know now she can give you what I never could._

_I hope that you'll accept my heartfelt regret for these and the unlisted harms that I did to you. I know there is nothing I can ever do to make things right. My hope is that you get the life you always wanted, deserved; for you two to be free and happy, together, Jeff._

_Sincerely, Lisa_

He carefully folded the letter again, sliding it back into the envelope and sitting it in the middle of the table. Clarke knew all about amends, had known plenty of people that had worked the program. He was certain this letter hadn't been easy for Lisa, but it did little to right the wrongs between them. She was correct in saying there was nothing she could do to make things right. At least he had the truth now, the truth he has always suspected. Except that didn't change anything, didn't stop the pain and heartache he had caused Cailin in those dark days after…He shook his head, before resting his elbows on his knees, lost in thought. Be free and happy, she had said; well he had been, since the day Cailin Callahan walked into his life.


	5. Building Fires

**Chapter 14: Building Fires**

"Hey, I thought you were going wake me," Cailin's voice, still tinged with sleep, sounded from the hallway. Clarke looked up, taking in one of his shirts hanging off her shoulder, as she padded into the living room and flopped on the couch next to him.

"What time is it anyway?" she asked, before realizing Clarke was sitting stock still, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes a tangle of emotions. She dropped to her knees in front of him, wedging herself between the coffee table and the couch. "Jeff, what is it? What happened?"

Clarke shook his head, his nostrils flaring, unable to speak, jerking his head toward the coffee table. "That," he finally croaked out.

Cailin followed his gaze, the intensity in his eyes almost frightening. She spied the envelope, starting to reach for it when she took in the return address, Logan Correctional Institute, Lincoln, IL. The women's prison, where Lisa was incarcerated. Her mouth went dry. Hadn't she caused them enough heartache? "What does she want?" Cailin asked, her voice carefully controlled in a vain attempt to keep a lid on her emotions. No wonder he had looked so intense when she came in.

"To finish step nine," he said through clenched teeth.

It took Cailin a moment before she realized what Clarke was saying. "To make amends?" Cailin shook her head, climbing back on the couch. "How can she possibly think she can do that?"

He just gave the slightest of shrugs and shook his head, his eyes still stormy. "You should read it."

"You want me to read an amends letter from your ex-wi-"

"Cailin, please," he pleaded, handing her the envelope.

She sighed, pulling the paper out, scanning the words, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the stark truths. "Jeff, I don't know what to say. I mean, she…" Cailin trailed off, at a loss. They had talked about whether Lisa had heard about her, if that hadn't been part of her showing back up. That theory had now been proven, along with the one about Hayes. To see that she owned up to her actions, it should probably mean something. Except it didn't stop Cailin from remembering the pain; and judging from the look on his face, Jeff was remembering it just as acutely.

They reached for each other at the same time, seeking shelter and peace; Clarke pulling Cally into his lap, each serving as an anchor and rock to the other, the letter fluttering to the floor as they took the last line to heart.

Tangled in each other and the sheets sometime later, Clarke laid a trail of kisses down Cailin's body, as much an excuse to check her wound as anything else. "It's fine, Jeff," she said, gently calling him out, knowing exactly what he was doing. "It had plenty of time to close up while I was playing Sleeping Beauty, not to mention Shay is still damn good," she said, smiling down at him.

"Sometimes I think you know me a little too well, Callahan," he shot back, meeting her lips with his own.

* * *

Still worn from the case and Lisa's amends, both physically and emotionally, Cailin barely even registered when Clarke left for classes the next morning. She bolted awake mid-morning, thinking she was running late for a briefing before remembering she was on administrative leave. Cally knew why Voight wasn't willing to let her slide; he was still feeling the burn from Stillwell. And given her rash actions, it was probably best for her to walk a straight line for the next few weeks. Except she wanted to know what was happening with the case, to track down Alec and Mykola, to see them get their metal bracelets. She gave in and called Erin.

"Lindsay," her fellow detective and friend barked into the phone.

"It's Cally, I just wanted to check in. See how the briefing went. Is Frank out of ICU yet? What's the word on Alec and Mykola?"

Erin growled into the phone, "You are really bad at administrative leave, Callahan. Why are you calling me? Don't you have anything better to do?" She glared at Jay who was acting like he was scared of her driving while on the phone, like he was ever going to win any driving safety awards.

"Not really," Cailin admitted with a sigh.

"Clarke's busy, huh?" she replied with a laugh, ignoring Jay as he made a face.

"Good to know I am that transparent," Cailin retorted.

Jay wrestled the phone away from Erin, "Look, Callahan, finish your girl chat later before Erin takes out a pedestrian or runs us into a brick wall. Some of us have work to do." He stabbed the end call button and threw the phone on the dash.

By lunchtime, Cailin was almost bored enough to head down to visit her family, but decided to visit her second family instead.

* * *

She walked into 51 with the tray of food, realizing just how different it felt now. Sure Matt was still barking orders, but now it was at Candidate Nelson. Hermann was still ranting about something he had seen on the news while Cruz, Capp and Severide rolled their eyes and Mills watched bemusedly from the kitchen; but there were three other new faces in addition the candidate. As well as the more familiar face of Allison Rafferty who was trying to explain what half of the items on the baby registry Donna had sent over to Boden were.

"Should have gotten here earlier, I see," Cailin said to Mills, setting the pan on the counter.

"Cally, hey," he said, with a smile. "No worries, this can freeze and you know this crowd, we can always eat."

Cailin smiled at him before saying, "well, I know most of this crowd, Mills. How are they doing?"

Mills gave a slightly sad smile. "They're okay, still not the same…" he trailed off before shrugging, "but that's life I suppose."

"Callahan, when did you sneak in?" Hermann said, finally stopping his ranting long enough to notice she was there, "and why are you visiting us instead of Ugly?" he said, with an authentic grin.

"Somewhere between you ranting about the hike in St. Ignatius' tuition and your conspiracy theory on the welfare system. Cindy must have the patience of a saint," she said, going over and elbowing him slightly, before giving him a hug, deftly avoiding the subject of Clarke being at med school instead of firefighting.

"How's the wound?" Severide asked gesturing to her stomach. Matt's head snapped up, giving his friend a look.

"It is fine, Severide. I take it Shay blabbed?" she said, giving him a mock glare and waving Matt off.

"You know she can't keep a secret. I also heard you had to fire your weapon. Take it you're on leave?"

Cailin nodded, "yep, and I barely grazed the bitch, this probably hurt more," she said, briefly showing the angry red line held together by Shay's careful butterfly bandaging. "I just feel bad about the monkey."

"What about a monkey?" Cruz asked, looking slightly confused.

"Some exotic animals got loose, one of them was about to leap on Ruzek and I took it out," she explained, sliding out a chair and sitting next to Matt. They all realized the four new guys were staring at Cally with their mouths hanging open.

"Detective Callahan is a member of the Intelligence Unit over at the 21st Precinct. Lieutenant Casey and she are lifelong friends. Her father was a Deputy Commissioner and two of her brothers are also with CFD," Boden explained, before giving her a pat on the shoulder and heading to his office.

"A cop, huh, does that mean you carry a gun?" one of the guys asked with an all too familiar gleam in his eye. She merely nodded as the guy continued, "and handcuffs?" He elbowed Capp sitting next to him.

The rest of 51 seemed to sense what was about to happen; Hermann shook his head, already walking away, Mills mirroring the action as he stirred his pot of stew. Severide snorted, muttering "good luck, Davis" right as the newbie continued, "so what do I got to do to see them?"

Rafferty made a strangled noise as Cruz made a sign of the cross. Matt clamped a hand on her shoulder, expecting that she was going to jump out of her chair and throttle Davis.

Cailin brushed him off, "if you plan on breaking the law, I would be more than happy to show them to you, Davis, was it?" she said, a smile painted on her face that belied the ice in her eyes.

"Oh, so you like the V not the P, huh? Didn't you say your roomie was a lesbo, Severide?" the new Squad guy quipped, earning a swat on the back of his head from Severide.

"Don't be an idiot, Rice, she's with Lieutenant Clarke; who used to have your spot, wish he still did."

"Wait, the dude that took the fall for his chick? I thought she went to prison," Davis replied with another ill-advised leer at Cally, "though I suppose if anyone could beat a wrap, it would be a cop."

This is what brought Cailin out of her chair, knocking it over as she stood up with such force, vaulting toward Davis, stopped only by Severide stepping in between them and Casey pulling her back.

"Maybe you should go, Callahan," Severide said, his eyes telling her it wasn't a suggestion.

"I'll walk you out, I need some air that hasn't been contaminated by idiots," Casey said, rushing up and grabbing her elbow.

* * *

Realizing that everyone was staring made Cailin start to blush and she easily let Matt pull her away, barely shooting a look at Mills as he called out, "thanks for the food."

"You wanna tell me why Dumbass Davis can make stupid handcuff statements and you manage to smile at him but one mention of Voldemort and you turn into an Olympic hurdler?" Casey asked as they made their way outside.

Cailin chewed her lip, not wanting to air dirty laundry even to one of her best friends. But it wasn't like it was a secret. "Lisa sent Jeff a letter."

"What does she want now?" Casey said, already going on the defensive.

Cailin let out a sigh. "Supposedly to make amends, she's working a 'program'," she replied with angry air quotes, "but fat lot of good it does except to drag up old crap."

Casey studied her carefully. "You aren't afraid of that woman still having a hold on Clarke, are you, Cal? Because I can tell you, that is not the case." From the look in Cally's eyes, he could tell at least a small part of her friend was worrying about exactly that. But he knew Jeff Clarke had fallen for his friend just as hard as he had fallen for Gabby, if not more so. "You'll have to trust me on this one, okay?"

"I know, I'm being stupid," Cailin replied, playing with the zipper on her jacket. "Anyway, I should go," she said, pulling out her buzzing phone.

"See ya, Callahan," Casey called after her.

"We got a line one of them," Erin's voice said over the line.

"Alec or Mykola?" Cailin asked with a sigh, feeling left out.

"Alec, but hopefully he'll be singing like a bird as soon as we bring him in and get him in the cage. Just thought you should know, Cally, even though Voight told me not to call you."

Cailin could practically hear the tinkling laugh in her voice. "Yes, because you always do everything Hank Voight tells you to. Thanks for the heads up."

"No problem, now please go have some fun on your two days off so I can be insanely jealous and live vicariously through you."

Cailin wanted to do as Erin had bid, however it was a little difficult considering all her friends were working. Finally, knowing she could at least score a free meal and some left overs, she headed down to Oak Forest to visit her mother, now ensconced at Coleman's house. The visit was nice enough, though rambunctious, with her nieces and nephews fighting for her time, Cole giving her weird looks all night and her mother constantly harping on her while she held baby Conrad. She externally rolled her eyes, while her internal monologue more ran along the lines of vowing to not name her children any names that started with C.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Another Log on the Fire**

The best part of visiting her family with a new baby in the house was that she was back early enough to catch Clarke before he passed out studying and have a full spread ready when he walked into the kitchen the next morning. "Hope you have time to eat," she said as he poured a cup of coffee.

He grinned at her before taking a long drink, "Class doesn't start until one and this smells way better than cafeteria food, but who else did you invite to breakfast, Callahan?"

"What the hell else am I supposed to do with three days off, Clarke?" she asked with a smile, handing him a plate piled high with food.

He caught her wrist pulling her into his lap, "I might have a couple of ideas. You still got that so-called uniform?"

"After you eat, cowboy, I'm not letting this go to waste," she replied, though she was tempted to give in to his ministrations.

"Actually I do have another idea for this morning," Clarke said as they were eating.

Cally looked at him, "I'm not putting that damn corset back on voluntarily, babe."

He pursed his lips at her, "seriously, I was thinking maybe we could call Goodwill and donate some of this stuff," he remarked, gesturing around.

"Uh-huh and then what are we supposed to do?" she said, looking around.

He cocked an eyebrow, "Cally, we are adults and GI Bill gives me a housing allowance, we can buy new stuff. Wouldn't you want to do that anyway when we get our own place?"

She gave him a look and a half-smirk, "oh, are we still doing that?"

"Cailin," he growled warningly, "we've both been busy, and it isn't because I don't want to. Unless you don't want to."

Cailin wondered if she was imagining it or if his tone was tinged with a certain amount of desperation. She did want them to get their own place; like Gabby, she didn't like being in a place bearing so many markings of the woman before her. Hell, even Voight had caught her looking up real estate listings, but something about getting 'their place' made this real. Very, very real.

Clarke studied Cally from across the table, not moving a muscle. He didn't want to influence her answer in any way, but he had to hope she hadn't changed her mind. Especially not after having talked to Connor Callahan the day before. He just had to get through the next few days. That was all. He could do it. Especially if she said…

"Of course I still want us to get our own place, Jeff, but you are in an accelerated program, so you get practically no time off and we would need to get your condo ready to go on the market and," she paused, looking around, "well, I guess I see your point. Maybe we should call Goodwill."

Clarke tried to not breathe out a sigh of relief, covering it with a grin and coming over to kiss her on the head. "Sounds great. Why don't you look up their number while I try to make heads or tails of your mess in here?"

"You don't get to complain, Mr. Clean Plate Club," she smiled at him, ducking out of the way of his snap of the towel.

* * *

They spent the morning and any free time over the couple of days sorting through the contents of the condo, though luckily Lisa's personal effects had long since been at her sister's. But most of the overstuffed, country decor was hauled away and headed for another life. Which meant they were left with a lot of open space.

"So I feel like we might need to go furniture shopping," Cally quipped as Clarke flipped through a textbook while sitting on a camp chair a couple of nights later.

Clarke gave her a half-smile, "we're not just going with a minimalist theme? Aren't real estate agents always going on about de-cluttering?"

"I don't think we were supposed to make it look like it was a crash pad though, Jeff; and I haven't really spent a lot of time talking to real estate agents. Maybe this is one now," she said, making a face as she reached for her phone. "Callahan."

"We got Mykola. Full briefing up in IU at 11 am, blondie," came Voight's voice.

"Sure thing, boss-" she started to say before realizing he had already hung up. She noticed Clarke looking at her with a slightly downtrodden expression. "What?"

"You have to go in, don't you?" he asked, trying to not sound disappointed, knowing Cally had been in a state with even just a few days of leave.

Cailin couldn't help but grin as she stuck a hand out toward him to help him up. "Yeah, tomorrow at 11 am. Now how about I go show you how glad I am you kept your bachelor pad bed in storage?" she grinned at him wickedly.

Cally was still lounging in bed with a cup of coffee as Clarke hauled ass out the door in the morning for his Saturday shift up Roger's Park; teasing her for being lazy, knowing she was anything but. It was only on her way back to bed with a coffee refill that she saw the morning sunlight catch something on Clarke's nightstand. His challenge coin, he never went on shift without it; it was his talisman, his rabbit's foot.

She looked at the clock, calculating the round trip and if it would have her running late or not. Cally had a brief text conversation with Erin, begging her to cover if she didn't get there in time for the briefing. After a little ribbing, her friend acquiesced.

Cailin pulled up in front of the station, happy to see Truck 25 still in its bay, realizing the coin was as much her talisman as it was Jeff's. Safe, she needed him safe because he kept her grounded, he was her reason for being.

"Hey guys," she said, walking into the firehouse, greeting his team. Part of her had hoped he would stay back at 51 after everything that had happened with the explosion; but med school had changed all that, even if he still hadn't completely left CFD.

"Detective," they greeted her in their overly formal way.

"Cally," came a cheery, familiar voice from practically inside the Engine where Gabby was doing inventory. She hopped down, giving her friend a hug. "What brings you around?"

"Clarke just forgot something, thought I'd drop it off on my way in. How was the family engagement party?" she asked, returning Gabby's enthusiastic hug.

"Must be important to traipse up here. He's in his quarters, bitching about paperwork," Gabby said with an eye roll.

Cally let out a snort, "I'm sure you've heard more than enough about CFD paperwork."

Gabby laughed heartily. "Girl, you know it." Gabby smiled broadly, giving her friend a squeeze on the arm, "it is really nice to see you, Cally. I've missed seeing you."

"You too, Gabby," Cailin replied, wondering if she caught a hint of wistfulness in her friend's tone. It had been a long, tough summer for everyone, and that included Matt and Gabby…

Cailin had heard wistfulness in Gabby's tone, she and Clarke had a heart to heart about it a couple of shifts ago. She had been slightly apprehensive about telling her Lieutenant about everything she had dealt with since that awful day; her own nightmares, how she pretty much checked out every time they went out on a call, unable to focus on anything except the task at hand, her emotions completely numb. Or how it took a little longer each time she came back from a call out to start to feel again, despite supposedly being a blushing bride-to-be. Her mother was ecstatic, constantly badgering her bridal magazines and color schemes and a million endless questions. But she could do little more than paste a fake smile on her face and pretend to be over the moon.

* * *

Clarke was genuinely concerned about Gabby, especially since she was his candidate. He had tried to get to know everyone up in Roger's Park, but that house wasn't the same as 51, everyone more just wanting to get the job done, get in and out and not really bonding. He was sure he didn't help things much, only being there on weekends.

Gabby was grateful for his concern, even if things felt so different from how they had at 51. The guys up in Roger's Park wanted to keep things very surface level. At least they weren't treating her any different for being female, though she wondered how much of that had to do with Brandon Jones making it clear he was all in support of female firefighters as long as they could 'handle it'.

Which is why Gabby hadn't reached out for any professional help, not wanting to be labeled a hysterical female who couldn't cut it. "It just feels like everything is different and I don't know which end is up anymore, Clarke!" Gabby implored, while angrily mopping the concrete of the truck bays.

Clarke couldn't help but smile, "that's because it is all different, Dawson. You were living a completely different life a few months ago, we all were."

"I know, and I am not trying to act like I got the short end of the stick. I am still working with CFD, as a firefighter, I'm still alive. I feel like a brat for complaining," she said, growing sullen, thinking of Newhouse, his close-knit family beyond devastated at his death; also thinking about Rebecca Jones, knowing she had to succeed as much to honor the other woman's memory, as for herself.

"You ain't complaining, Dawson, you're stating a fact. World isn't the same place, and I'm not sure any of us know which way is up anymore." Dawson looked lost and forlorn enough that he decided to change tactics, lowering his voice to an almost whisper, "Is it just me, or does everyone up here act like they got a stick up their butt?"

Gabby jumped, slightly surprised. She had felt like people were walking on eggshells, but she had assumed it was just because there wasn't any women in the house; even the 'medics were all guys. That was until Chout showed up on a relief shift one day and started calling her 'Chuck'. When she finally yelled at him about it, he informed her that's what everyone else was calling anyone from 51, the full name being 'Bad Luck Chuck'. She suddenly averted her gaze.

"Don't tell me it's just me, Dawson. Or is it just me? I thought I was doing pretty well as a Loo." Maybe he wasn't doing such a good job juggling being a med student and a CFD Lieutenant as he thought he was.

Gabby looked up at him through her eyelashes, wringing out the mop before continuing. "It's not you, it's us. They think we are bad luck, it's why Chout kept calling us Chuck."

"I thought he was just an idiot," Clarke said, shaking his head.

* * *

Cailin walked past the empty mess hall to Clarke's quarters, knocking on the door before she entered. Jeff was bent over his desk, concentrating on the hated paperwork. "Forget something?" she asked, holding up his coin between her thumb and forefinger.

"How do you know I wasn't just trying to get you to stop by?" he said, rising and taking it from her, pulling her to him.

"Because if you wanted me to stop by, you would just tell me to, Clarke," she said with a smirk.

He raised his eyebrows, "think you know me so well, Callahan?" He kissed her and then said, "since you're already up here, why don't I cook us some breakfast?"

"Shouldn't Candidate Dawson being doing that?" Cally teased.

"She already did for the crew, I was too busy with paperwork. Come on, I make a mean omelet." He gave her a heated look, knowing full well those were the words he said to her right before the first time they slept together.

"That you do," she replied as she cocked an eyebrow, "but I'm not going at it with you in the gear room."

"Very funny, come on, to the kitchen," he stressed, though he still let his hand linger on her lower back.

"You really don't have to cook for me," she said, watching him move around the kitchen, as she sat on top of the counter.

"You cook for me and 51 all the time, Callahan, so let me win on some folded eggs, babe," he said, getting out ingredients. "Can you grab me that pepper?" he asked, pointing behind where she was sitting.

She turned, stretching to reach for it and when she turned back around she saw Clarke hunched down on the ground. At first she though he was tying his boot, before realizing he was looking up. "Uh, Jeff?" she asked, hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement just outside the glass, turning and catching sight of Gabby ducking. She turned back to where he was, yep, still on one knee, still looking up at her. Her heart started pounding.

"I once said that 51 saved my life and you once told me I had saved yours. I want to amend my previous statement, 51 saved my life, but you gave me a life worth living and so I was hoping that you, Cailin Marie Callahan, would at least considering being my wife?"

She realized he had a ring between his finger and thumb, a sapphire, her favorite stone, on an antique filigree band. "You left it on purpose?" she said, slightly shocked and questioningly.

"I left it on purpose," he replied, nodding, "Now could you give me an answer before this frying pan catches on fire and I become the laughingstock of CFD for burning down my own fire station?"

Cailin could only nod, still in shock, even as he stood, sliding the ring on her finger and moving in for a kiss. She complied, happily, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him towards her as he nearly laid her back on the counter top.

Her phone started buzzing. Cally worked to extract it from her pocket, finally pulling it out and seeing the text from Gabby: _Congrats, need me to guard the gear room? xo_ "You told Gabby?" she squeaked out.

Clarke smiled at her broadly, "I told the whole house, how do you think I kept them out of here?"

"Good thing I said yes," Cailin laughed.

"Wasn't ever a doubt," he retorted.

"Don't get too cocky, cowboy."

"Why today? This isn't about the letter, right?" she asked, digging into the omelet.

Clarke gave her a knowing look, "It was a year ago today that I first met you."

"How did you know that or remember that? Has it only been a year?" she replied. Thinking back, she couldn't even recall the date; all she remembered was being struck with…"the challenge coin," she said with a slightly wistful smile.

Clarke nodded, not saying anything, studying her as she sat across from him, chewing on her food. She hooked her leg around his under the table, trying to play cool, despite now being engaged, as he waved his waiting crew back into the mess hall. "Don't ever let anyone tell you Marines aren't romantic, Clarke."

"Of course we are, we're gentlemen," he smirked. It was the truth, even more so in his efforts with Cailin. He knew she had thrown herself into the job, had to hide her relationship with Jimmy, her previous engagement having only been as long as it took a judge to waive the waiting period on the marriage license. She hadn't ever really been courted, and he had done his best to change that; at least as much as she would allow him to. Hence his rather understated proposal, especially compared to the outrageous ideas Shay had concocted for him. Frankly he was surprised Shay had been able to keep it a secret, but after he had talked to Connor, he knew he had to do something fast, before the Callahan family gossip got back to Cally. Connor had laughed at Clarke when he asked for his permission to propose. "If Pops were still around he would be doing the same thing. My sister isn't really one for tradition, Marine, in case you hadn't caught on."

The station chief suddenly appeared at the table, offering the couple his congratulations as he apologized for being shorthanded and not able to let Clarke go. Cailin waved him off, knowing she had to get to work as well. "Speaking of which, I gotta go, Erin's covering for me, but Voight will have my ass if I'm not at the briefing."

"Feel free to tell him where to stick it, babe," Clarke said as he walked her out, "and though I know you want to be back at work, know I would much rather us be spending the day together."

"I think you've done more than enough today, Jeff," she replied, giving him another long kiss.

* * *

**Chapter 16: Fire in the Hole**

"Oh look who finally decided to show up. Nice of you to grace us with your presence, sunshine," Voight grumbled as Cailin made her way into IU.

"I brought donuts," she replied, setting them on the corner of her desk as she tried to avoid his glare, "and it is 11:07!"

Voight narrowed his eyes at her, "don't try my patience, Callahan, or I'll send you right back out on leave." She squirmed under his glare until Antonio rescued her. "Come off it, Hank, you were just saying the past few days felt like forever."

"Back to work, hope whatever made you late was important, Callahan," he said, his eyes settling on her for a long beat before he turned back to the boards.

"Donuts are very important," Ruzek replied, his mouth stuffed full of a cruller.

Cally snorted in reply, thinking if only they knew. Some detectives they were, she had left her ring on, and it was taking everything in her power to pay attention to Voight's rundown and not stare down at the new weight on her left hand.

It was, of course, Erin who caught on first; her eyes taking in the light glinting off of the metal on Cally's left hand. She tried to catch the other woman's eyes, but Cally was far more intent on voicing her opinion that they shouldn't let the DA cut any deals with anyone from the Krok. Voight was in agreement, but couldn't help but be slightly amused at Cally's impassioned ranting.

Finally after watching her throwing up her hands and saying "but what do I know?" Erin couldn't take it any more. "Hold up, Callahan, what the hell is that?"

"What's what?" Cailin replied, trying to look innocent.

"Is that what you had to go do this morning?" Her hazel gaze bore down on her friend, rooting her to the spot.

"Maybe..." Cally mumbled, suddenly entranced with the floor tiles.

"Maybe, all you can say is 'maybe'?" Erin looked at her and shook her head.

"When either of you ladies," Voight interrupted, clearing his throat, "wanna fill the rest of us in, by all means, feel free."

Erin shot her friend a look before sliding up to sit on the top of her desk. Leaving Cailin wanting to crawl under it as the brunette detective loudly said, "Callahan has an announcement."

"Callahan has no such thing," Cailin hissed, looking at Antonio for help, though he just leaned back and said, "well you've got my attention."

"It's nothing, you guys, really. I am sorry I was late, it won't happen again," she said, feeling her face flush.

"Oh come off it!" Erin admonished. She rolled her eyes before breaking into a full dimpled grin, "Callahan was late because she was too busy getting engaged."

Voight's eyes slid from his one female detective to another. "Marine couldn't do it on your days off?" he replied, but his smile belied his words. "I'll be sure to remove the demerit from your file. Though I better not see one damn bridal magazine up here, Callahan."

Cally felt her face turn red as everyone stared at her. "You won't, sir, promise."

It was Antonio who spoke up next, "quit playing it so cool, Callahan. This is good news, congrats." He came from behind his desk, pulling her into a hug and while Cailin briefly stiffened, she had a feeling she better get used to it.

The rest of the team offered up their well wishes, Erin demanding a full debriefing at Molly's ASAP before Voight hustled them back to the task at hand.

Molly's, Cally thought, the rest of the gang, assuming all of 51 didn't already know, she would have to go through this again with them. And her family. Good God, her mother would be beside herself.

"It is good news, right?" Antonio asked, taking in Cally's pallor.

She shook her head, "yeah, of course, it's just...my family and 51, telling them, it's going to be..." she trailed off, "I just didn't have to deal with ths before..."

He let out a small laugh, lightly hip checking her. "You've been through worse, Callahan, including getting shot. I think you can handle announcing your engagement."

"When you put it that way, Dawson. Now come on, I want a run at Mykola."

* * *

The younger Dawson was peppering her lieutenant with a stream of questions. "When did you know? How could you be sure she would come up here? Do you think you'll have a big wedding? Does her family know? Does Matt know? Can I tell him or should I let Cally?"

"Take a breath, Canidate, or I'll make you run drills," Clarke teased. Gabby held her ground, waiting for answers. "Fine. I know she would come up because I know her, we haven't gotten to any planning yet, you just saw me ask her, Dawson. I did talk to Connor already, so I'm sure her family knows or will soon. I also don't know about anybody else, with the exception of Shay."

Gabby's eyes grew wider and she looked slightly wounded. "You told Leslie Shay and you didn't tell me? We're in the same house, Clarke!" Gabby caught one of the other guys glowering at them as she admonished him, quickly she worked to cover, "I mean Lieutenant, sir No disrespect meant." She hated how stiff and by the book this house was.

Clarke waited until the other man wandered off before giving Gabby a small smile, "none taken, candidate. But for someone planning her own wedding, you seem awfully interested in mine." He hoped his tone was light, but his meaning was sincere. He knew Gabby had tried to keep that part of her life out of the station, but he had overheard more than a few phone calls between her and Shay or Casey, and those were mild compared to the impassioned rapid-fire conversations in Spanish between Gabby and her mother.

"Maybe because I'm not planning one," she muttered under her breath before looking up with a smile. "I'm just excited and happy for you both, that's all. When Cally first got here and then after," she shrugged, "you know, she seemed lost and broken. But ever since that day you pulled her out of that bathroom...well, Shay and I saw it right away."

"Good to know, Dawson, now how about you go scrub the bathroom before Johnson goes complaining to the Chief about us?"

"On it, Lieutenant," Gabby said with a salute, before rushing away with a big smile. Though it faded as she scrubbed at the tiles in the shower stall. Not because she was doing scut work, every candidate had to do scut work, but because Clarke was right, she felt more excitement over watching him propose to Cally than she did about her own impending nuptials.

Things with Matt had been rocky, since his first accident really, trauma magnified after the building collapse. Yet she had been so eager to say yes to him, had been struck terrified that she wouldn't ever get the chance to say yes to him on that dark day. Things had been better lately, he was his old charming self the entire time they were in New York, taking her crazy Dominican family in stride. In eight months, she would be Mrs. Matthew Casey, so why wasn't she over the moon? Everything in her life was falling into place; she was getting everything she wanted. Or at least everything she thought she did. It was probably just nerves, and stress, and her mother, who was more a Bridezilla than she was. That had to be it, right?

* * *

Cailin had to wait for her run at Mykola, Voight wanting them to track down the names they had gotten from Zuzanna, Ivan and, the just released from the hospital, Frank. A lot of low-level thugs, but he was taking any notches on his bedpost that he could get. Especially since Stillwater was sniffing around, wondering why Detective Callahan hadn't been given a longer administrative leave. Voight not so kindly told him to quit telling him how to run his department, as well as informing him where he could stick it; but Stillwell wasn't willing to give up that easily. Voight just wished he could get something concrete on the guy to give up to McCarthy, but so far it hadn't happened; at least not in a way that still kept his own nose clean and the Brass out of the IU.

While Voight went MIA and they dealt with knocking down doors and hauling in the Eurotrash, Cailin felt herself growing restless. It didn't help that they had stretched their time with Alec & Mykola in the IU cages to its limit. HQ wanted to know why the hell the two hadn't been perp walked through the media frenzy waiting outside central booking. Everyone had taken a run at the pair, using every trick in the book, all while desperately trying to keep the case out of the clutches of the Feds. Alec finally lawyered up, but Ruzek and Olinsky were still spending some QT with him below. Lindsay and Halstead were trying to keep Commander Perry distracted when Cailin decided she wanted one last shot with Mykola.

Dawson followed her in to the interview room they had stuck him in to give Olinsky and Ruzek a little more privacy, but didn't say anything as he leaned against the wall, letting the blonde detective sit across from him, opening a file folder.

"Interesting read here, Mykola. You've certainly made the name for yourself in Chicago."

The man just stared at her, his brown eyes hooded and vacant. "But I don't really want to talk about Chicago, we already have you dead to rights on all that. Especially since my fellow detectives are downstairs with Alec singing like a nightingale. No. I would rather talk about New York. Nice place, the Big Apple." Cailin paused for his reaction, acutely aware of Antonio's curiosity. "Can't say I ever got out to Brighton Beach much, though."

Mykola continued to stare at her, his eyes taking in her every feature. It sent chills down Cailin's spine, but she didn't avert her gaze, raising her chin a fraction of an inch, challenging him.

He finally answered, "I don't much either. That is where my wife lives." A wicked grin spread across his face, gone the instant it formed.

Cailin's stomach rolled, but at least he had said something. She glanced briefly back at Antonio, who was still standing, arms tossed over his chest. He raised his eyebrows slightly. She took it as a sign to continue. "So where do you spend most of your time then?"

"Here and there, in the company of beautiful women, mostly."

"How nice for you," Cally quipped, "probably not as much for them," she said, looking at him pointedly.

"I don't get many complaints," he leered, reaching forward and attempting to stroke her hand. She drew it back, resisting the urge to stab it with the pen in her other hand. Antonio stepped forward, giving Mykola a warning look.

"Probably because you drug most of your companions, isn't that right, Mykola?" Cailin pressed, though she leaned back in her chair away from him, the briefest of touches from him bringing back too many memories of Nansenko. Which was exacerbated by that man's next words.

"I help many young women find men who will take care of them; rich men, powerful men. So as I said, not many complaints, some of them just need a little…guidance." A light gleamed in his eyes as another slow smile spread across his face, though he showed no teeth.

Cailin could practically feel the world stop, the air growing heavy as he looked at her.

"Take this one pretty little blonde, like a, what is that phrase, girl next door? I had a buyer all ready for her, one of those oil princes. Wanted an American cheerleader type. He was very hard to please; this one too trashy, that one too fat. Finally, I find the perfect girl, maybe a little too old, but looks young enough; innocent, yet feisty. Too bad she turned out to be nothing more than a filthy pig." He spat the last work at her, the wad of saliva hitting her as she vaulted over the table at him, her hands going around his neck, both them and his chair tipping backwards to the floor.

Antonio was on them both in a second, forcibly ripping Cailin off of Mykola, who was laughing at the woman's fury despite being stuck on his back like a handcuffed turtle. "Still feisty, I see, New York City cop. Too bad about Nansenko…and your partner."

Cailin struggled to break free of Antonio's grip, but he kept his hand clamped tightly around her bicep, though he didn't prevent her from landing a swift kick to the man's side, silencing his laughing and leaving him gasping for air.

Antonio wrenched her back, saying, "that's enough, Callahan."

"Enough? Are you kidding me, Dawson, he just said-" Cailin shot back, not believing he was stopping her. Wasn't this the point of IU, make them talk, no matter what? Not to mention the piece of crap had just admitted he had someone lined up to buy her.

"I heard what he said and I am sure Voight will also be very interested in it, so why don't you go take a breather while I go tell him about it?" Antonio all but shoved her out the door, slamming it behind them as he told Erin to sit on Cally if she had to to keep her out of the room.

"I take it that didn't go well?" Erin said, giving her friend a look as she paced back and forth in front of the desks.

Cailin chewed on her thumbnail before answering, "depends on your perspective, I suppose. At least I'm not some sex slave to a Saudi Prince."

"Why do I get the feeling we have even more to talk about at Molly's other than you getting engaged?" Erin retorted.

Cailin's head shot up, engaged? Oh right, she was engaged. She had fallen down the rabbit hole of memories. The weight of the sapphire ring on her hand broke her back to the present, her phone buzzing in her pocket. A text from Jeff. Her fiancé.

Voight and Dawson came storming back through IU, Olinsky close behind them. They went straight to the room where Mykola was still stuck on his back, dragging him out and down in the direction of the cages, Voight pausing briefly to snap, "Callahan, get the hell out of here and go home. Now!"


	6. Hearts on Fire

**Chapter 17: Hang Fire**

Cailin did as she had been ordered. She had been engaged for 33 hours and hadn't been home. Jeff had left her plenty of messages; from his shift and after, letting her know all was well on his front and that dinner was waiting on her whenever she got home.

Less than two days in and she was already the world's worst fiancée. And daughter/sister/friend if you included all the other voice mails and texts she was ignoring. Dinner was waiting, but Jeff wasn't, a scrawled note saying he was going to a study group he wouldn't be out late. She picked briefly at the plate, her exhaustion greater than her appetite, heading to a bed that was emptier and colder than she would have liked after her face off with Mykola. Which is probably what sparked the nightmare she was in the throes of when Clarke let himself into the condo a bit later, practically flying down the hallway and into the bedroom when he heard the sounds of a struggle.

"Cailin, it's okay, it's just a nightmare," he said, reaching for her foot like she was a soldier at Camp Baharia. She bolted upright, scrambling as though trying to locate her service weapon, which was locked in the gun safe like every night.

"Damn it, Jeff," she swore, taking in his form at the end of the bed.

"Rough day?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, far more worried than offended. The best thing about them being together was keeping the nightmares and beasts at bay, so for her to be slipping back into them must mean something was up.

Cally scratched at her head before rubbing her eyes, "sorry, not exactly the paragon of sexy fiancée to come home to, huh?"

The corners of his mouth lifted into a slight smile, even as his gaze remained serious and weighted on hers. "Given that you didn't actually shoot me, I'm going with still pretty sexy." He divested himself of his clothing, sliding in next to her under the covers, wrapping his arm around her. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked after she snuggled against his side.

"Not yet," she replied, "I just need our bubble for a bit."

"Then consider us quarantined," he replied, kissing her on top of her head and pulling her closer.

Clarke could tell by the way she didn't completely relax into his arms that Cailin was still ruminating over something, if the nightmare he had walked in on hadn't been enough. He responded to her queries about the study group and his latest shift, trying to keep things light, deciding to avoid bringing up Gabby's seemingly mixed reaction. And then he stayed quiet, letting her work through whatever it was that was weighing on her, she had certainly done it enough for him. There had been plenty of shifts he had come home with a bad scene following behind him and she would take one look at him and know whether it was time to grab the coffee pot or the whiskey bottle, knowing when to keep her distance or when he needed the comfort of her arms around him; sitting next to him in silence until he was ready to either set it aside or be out with it. He was more than willing to return the favor.

Cailin could feel the tension remaining despite Clarke's strong arms around her. She listened as he caught her up on the goings on over the past day and a half, though she could tell he was holding slightly back. Which she hated, part of the reason she had fallen in love with him was that he didn't treat her like something about to break, even when she close to doing so. She stayed lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat even after he fell silent. It wasn't uncomfortable silence, more it filled the room around them with the anxiety that was clearly emanating off of Clarke. She let out a sigh, moving out of his arms and flopping on her back, before letting out a frustrated, "I'm sorry, Jeff. It's this damn case."

"Hey, Cal, it's fine. It's not like I don't bring home my bad days with me, we're not robots," he replied, turning to look at her, stopping himself from reaching out for her as she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands as though she was having to physically hold back tears. "Talk to me, Cailin," he pressed, his concern morphing into full worry.

She removed her hands, but remained staring up at the ceiling, unable to look at him. "Just another day in IU; taking out some Eastern European mobsters, knocking pieces of scum around in the cages, and finding out how close I was to being sold to a Saudi Prince, no big deal."

"Come again?" Clarke replied, bolting upright, though forcing his tone to remain calm.

"Apparently Nansenko was supplying Mykola with girls for more than just parties and upscale brothels. Apparently your girl next door girlfriend could have fetched quite the sum, or at least I could have when I could still pass for the cheerleader type." She let out a long breath, throwing her arms over her eyes, wondering why it was still weighing on her so much.

Clarke couldn't take it, the frustration and pain practically radiating off Cally's body. He gently, but firmly, pulled her arms away from her face and slid her onto his lap. "Please tell me that asshole was one of the pieces of scum being knocked around in the cage," he said, his anger clear in his voice.

Cailin nodded, "yeah, or at least they were headed that way after Antonio dragged me off of him." She gave him a wry smile, "pretty sure I never was the cheerleader type."

He let out a noise between a grunt and a laugh. "Wouldn't want you any other way, Callahan. And it's fiancée by the way," he added, briefly spinning her ring around her finger before threading his fingers through hers.

"You still sticking to that even after finding out I was almost sold as a sex slave?" she squeezed his hand, a false smile on her face, her eyes giving away her worry.

"There's a hell of a lot worse in my past, Cally and you love me, and not in spite of it, so yeah, I'm sticking to it. Would marry you tomorrow except your family would kill me and I think you deserve an actual wedding."

His statement turned her smile genuine. "Oh what, the big bad Marine is afraid of a couple of mick's from Mount Greenwood? Need I remind you of your attempted takedown of an armed gang with a baseball bat, Jeff?"

"They don't scare me, Callahan, couple of Skippers, a contractor, a priest and a mechanic; I think I can take them," he teased back, "it's your mother I'm terrified of."

"You should probably stay that way, she filled my voicemail over the past 36 hours. I can't believe you tried to ask Connor permission, by the way. I would be offended, but it's kinda cute," she said, leaning in and pressing her forehead against his.

He narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't really going for cute, Cally," he said, before giving her a smirk and flipping her onto her back and showing her everything but cute.

"So if you would marry me tomorrow, I'm guessing you don't want a big USMC wedding then, huh?" Cailin asked later, once again settled on Clarke's chest, though completely relaxed this time.

"I'm not really a Marine anymore," he replied, enjoying her warm body draped across him. He felt her shift, opening his eyes and seeing the look she was giving him. "Cut me some slack, Callahan. You know what I mean."

"This is a second go around for both of us, Jeff, and neither of us really got what we wanted the first time, right? So I was just asking, wanted to make sure you didn't want something like your buddy's wedding in California." She gave a slight shrug, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

Clarke couldn't help but smile at her slight discomfort; the exact opposite of most recently engaged women. He kissed the top of her head saying, "Babe, he's still active in the Marines. I'm a sort of firefighter and a med student, so no military weddings for me."

" And also no firehouse weddings while everyone is on shift, please," she quipped with dark humor.

"I am pretty sure Boden has banned firehouse weddings and if he hasn't, he should," Clarke replied.

"Agreed," Cailin said, before yawning and nuzzling his neck saying, "sweet dreams, Clarke," as she drifted off into a restful slumber.

"What's this?" Cailin asked early the next morning, picking up the envelope addressed to her that Clarke had leaned against her coffee cup while she was getting ready. "Please tell me my mother did not send over invitation samples already because I didn't freaking call her back!"

"It is an actual invitation, Cal, to the 100 Club awards banquet. Was in that same mountain of mail as-" Clarke broke off, turning back to the stove.

Cailin ignored where he was going, sipping on her coffee as she read the enclosed details. Awards ceremony next week at City Hall during the day, dress uniform required; by invitation only banquet that evening, black tie required. "So why did we get an invite to the dinner?" she asked, setting it on the counter.

Clarke turned slightly, cocking an eyebrow, "Boden's wedding, scrap fire turned big, building went boom, any of this ringing a bell?"

"Yeah, so you ran back into a burning building multiple times to save your brethren. But why did I get one? I thought only cops who managed to take down roving gangs without force got invited to this," she replied.

"You were at that fire too and did you forget about that time back in May when you got shot protecting a child and trying to protect your fellow officers? I knew they should have let you keep that bullet they dug out of you."

"I tried, they kept saying it was a bio-hazard," she shot back with a shrug before looking slightly panicked, "damn, I don't have anything to wear."

He couldn't help but laugh, "I think you being up in IU with Erin is turning you into a girl, babe. Just buy something."

"Says the almost GQ model, you could buy a tux off the street and look amazing," Cailin replied, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Clarke drew her in for a slightly longer kiss before goosing her. "Flattery will get you everywhere and breakfast. Sit and eat before you go knocking anyone around in the cages."

She complied with a laugh, sliding into a chair at the table. "Like Voight lets me down in the cages," she said digging in.

"Probably for the best," he teased, sitting across from her, watching as she picked up her buzzing phone, rejecting another call. "Your mother again?"

"Text from Matt, call from Gabby," she said, feeling slightly guilty for ignoring her friends and family.

Clarke nodded, chewing carefully as he thought about his candidate's reaction. "Maybe you and Gabby could go dress shopping this weekend, doesn't she have practice at that sort of thing?" He watched as Cailin's eyes grew wide and slightly wild. "For the banquet," he tacked on, "don't look so panicked, Cal." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, "you do want to do this, right? You didn't just say yes to me because of…" he trailed off.

Cally squeezed his hand back, "no, of course I want to! I said yes because I love you, Jeff and do want to marry you." She withdrew her hand and went back to her breakfast, pausing briefly to add, "just maybe not in February or May, those seem to be kind of cursed months for me."

"If we're playing that game, I am vetoing September and June," Clarke replied with a wry smile.

"Duly noted, can we add January to the list too? It's the worst of winter," she added.

Clarke's eyebrows rose, "should we be writing this down, I feel like we are running out of months."

Cailin let out a small snort, "and we haven't even gotten to trying to coordinate everyone's shift schedules and your school schedule." She held up her buzzing phone, "oh look, it's my mother again, probably wants to give her opinion on what month we should get married in."

Clarke watched as she hit the ignore button again. "You do know you have to talk to her eventually, right?"

Cally shrugged, "hey I got married once without her knowing." She took in Clarke's wounded expression, it wasn't that she wasn't happy or even excited, it was just she wasn't good with all the attention being on her, and it seemed everyone was wanting to shine a spotlight on her. Not to mention her mother would be practically insufferable until the 'I dos' were said. Actually, her mother would probably be insufferable until there were a bunch of mini Jeff and Cailins climbing all over everything but that was a whole other battle. She sighed as her phone started buzzing again, a text she couldn't ignore. "I know, I know, I'll deal with her, but I right now, I gotta get to work because Voight scares me more than my mother. Enjoy learning about all kinds of crazy infections!"

"Watch your six, babe," Clarke said, giving her a kiss as he walked her to the door.

**Chapter 18: Hearts on Fire**

Cailin entered a nearly empty IU; though it was still early, especially given their usual late starting hours. But after her admin leave and being sent home the night before, Cailin figured she needed to put in face time. The only two people currently occupying their upstairs nook were Voight and Olinsky, with Alvin leaning back in his chair and Hank perched on his desk. They both stopped speaking as soon as Cailin stepped fully into the pen.

"You two could give a girl a complex," she quipped, trying to ignore the heaviness in the air.

"Callahan, my office, now!" Voight commanded.

Cailin blinked, following quickly after him, hating that this was starting to feel a little like her days down in VCU. Maybe she wasn't as good of a cop as she thought she was.

"Shut the door," Voight said as soon as she stepped over the threshold. She did so, remaining standing in front of his desk even after he said, "sit," though his tone was more level now.

She took a breath, "I'm fine, sir."

"Well that's a damn miracle," Voight replied, studying her closely.

She fought down a shudder, forcing her face to remain a mask, wondering what she had been called to task for this time.

"You left some nasty bruising around Mykola's neck, Callahan. Defense lawyer might have a field day with that."

Bruise marks? She was going to get her ass chewed about bruise marks and from a loose cannon of a man that was given his own off-the-books department with cages in an abandoned loading dock? Cailin blew a lock of hair out of her face before clenching her jaw.

"Though after he started bragging, those were the least of his worries. Might want to confine things to less visible areas next time though, sunshine," he continued, wishing she would just sit down already. But no, she just stubbornly stood there, looking through him and not giving an inch. Typical. And exactly why she was able to remain standing in a more figurative sense. "Seems you forgot a few details about the Nansenko case, or at least they didn't make it to your file," Voight continued, using his index finger to shove a folder her way.

Cailin caught her personnel number from the NYPD on the tab; stepping forward and pushing it right back toward him. "I've read it, sir, I know exactly what is in there and what isn't. Let's just say my old CO wasn't quite as willing to lie for us as you are."

"So you going to tell me the truth?" he asked, gently pressing, not breaking her gaze. This was enough to get her to drop down into the chair facing his desk.

"What good is it now?" Cailin asked, absently spinning her ring around her finger, wishing this beast would just lie down and die already.

Voight let out a gust of air. "Might help in knowing what Mykola is lying about or not."

Cailin reached out for the file, drawing it carefully off the desk, setting it on her lap, though she kept it closed.

"Two weeks, Callahan?" he asked, his tone one of disbelief and awe.

She shrugged, "or so I've been told, I didn't really have a concept of time after we left the yacht."

"Did you know it was Mykola's estate you were found in?"

This gave the blonde detective a start. She shook her head, "no, Nansenko seemed familiar enough with that room, I assumed…" she trailed off, forcing down the memories. Those seemingly endless days and nights in that windowless room, blindfolded, arms chained above her head. The beatings, the ice baths, unknown rough hands roaming…

"As I said, what good will it do now, Hank?" she said, standing and leaning to drop the file on his desk, laying her palm flat on it, her ring catching the light from his desk lamp. They both looked down at it and then back at each other. "My old life ended that day, I'm trying my damnedest to start a new one. The best way to tell if Mykola is lying or not… if it sounds too depraved to possibly have happened, he is telling the truth. I am glad Dawson pulled me off of him yesterday, because I would have killed him and even hell isn't good enough for any of those bastards." She stared him down, her eyes somehow both vacant and like blue flames. "Are we good here, sir?"

He nodded, waiting until she straightened and turned to walk out the door before saying, "I'm not sure how you've kept it together, Callahan, but I'm glad to have you on my team."

She paused, not turning around, looking down at her hand again. "I have a pretty good idea how I have kept it together the past year, Voight. Glad I'm up here too, not apologizing for Mykola's bruises though."

Voight let out a small chuckle, "just have Alvin teach you how to not leave a mark."

Voight sent her and Dawson out to run the roads on some old cases, hoping to dig up enough on some bangers to keep the Mayor's office happy. Antonio kept giving her sidelong glances all day, until finally she wrestled the keys away from him and said, "if you are going to keep gawking, I'm driving, Dawson."

"You're as bad as Erin," he said, shaking his head. "So was that piece of scum telling the truth?" he asked finally.

Cailin jerked the car over to the curb, throwing it roughly into park. "I don't know, Antonio." She held up her hand as she glared at him, "and more importantly, I don't want to know what he said to you to tell you if he was telling the truth. I don't know who all was in that room when and, thankfully, I also don't know what all happened. I was blindfolded and drugged for a lot of it. I blacked out on some other stuff. All I know is at the end of it, my partner was dead and I was alive and made a promise to keep going until every piece of shit like Nansenko was rotting in prison. I am glad Mykola talked, because I am sure he gave himself enough rope to hand himself with, but that doesn't mean I want to go tripping down memory lane. I came to Chicago for a reason and found even more reasons to stay, and I am going to focus on those and my job. Which right now is to wrestle up a few new CIs and get Stillwell and City Hall off our backs, so do you think we can go do that?"

Stumbling her way through a computer program later, Cailin became aware of Olinsky staring at her from across the way. "Jesus Christ, not you too, Alvin," she said, turning back to her keyboard and typing furiously.

"What's up with her?" Atwater asked to Ruzek's shrugging.

She ignored the long look between Erin, Jay and Antonio. Or tried to. "That's it, I am done being the latest exhibit in this zoo. I'll be at Molly's if anyone needs me." With that she gathered her things and left to meet Clarke who had already texted her that he was there.

The bar was quieter than she expected, but given the lack of any major sports games on and how nice the evening was, she wasn't entirely shocked. Everyone seemed to be crammed into places with patios or were just strolling along enjoying the night air. Hermann was behind the bar, but on the phone with Cindy, listening to the latest antics of his children. Mills, Severide and Clarke were on the end closest to the door, a mini-squad reunion, and they seemed to be actively ignoring the "newbies" from 51 at the far end. In between the two, Shay was sitting with Rafferty, who was rolling her eyes at the antics at the far end of the bar while Shay texted angrily on her phone.

"I may as well just tattoo a big 'L' on my forehead, losing out to stupid Matt Casey once again," Shay said, puffing out her cheeks in frustration.

Cally placed herself in between the two groupings, pointing to a tap while Hermann kept talking on the phone; everyone else so engrossed in their conversations, they hadn't noticed her slip in.

"Everyone knows you are gay, Shay," Rafferty quipped, garnering a narrow-eyed glare from Shay and a snort of laughter from Cally.

It was then Clarke realized who was standing next to him, taking in Cailin's forced smile at Shay and Rafferty, noticing the tiny furrow from her clenching her jaw. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, not turning as he pressed her against his side; a light squeeze of her hipbone enough for her to know that he could tell it had been a rough day.

Shay caught the movement, grumbling "freaking couples everywhere tonight."

Cailin arched an eyebrow at Rafferty, looking for an explanation. "You just missed Casey and Dawson," Rafferty supplied, "and those two have been mooning over each other since before we got here," she said, pointing to the table in the back.

Cailin followed the woman's finger, catching sight of Joe Cruz and his nurse girlfriend, Taylor, holding hands across the table, goofy grins on both their faces. "I think it's sweet," Cally replied, even as she surprised herself in saying so.

"Who are you?" Shay teased, frowning, "has being engaged changed you already, Cal?"

"Wait, you two got engaged?" Rafferty asked, gesturing from Cally to Clarke.

Cailin nodded, squirming slightly, bracing herself for an onslaught of questions. Curious as a storm cloud passed over Allison Rafferty's face as she said, "that's great," her tone implying anything but.

"Oh wait, things are looking up," Shay said, looking down at the text she just received on her phone. "Hot redhead I met at Spyner's wants to meet up," she replied waggling her eyebrows.

"What happened with the lawyer?" Clarke asked, giving her a look.

"Boring and bossy, worst combination ever," she said, shaking her head, "later."

She was gone in a flash, leaving Mills to remark, "her injuries may have kept her off ambo but they haven't slowed her down, huh?"

Cally and Clarke left shortly after, deciding to enjoy the walk home in the night air. Cally left a slight distance between them, frustrated at the weight of her latest case. She just had to let it go, that was all there was to it. But having Voight question her, and the looks that Dawson and Olinsky kept giving her…what had Mykola told them? What did he know that she didn't? She shuddered, rubbing at the goosebumps that rose on her skin, Clarke's arm once again finding its way around her waist, pulling her next to him again. Though this time he stopped, turning her toward him, pulling her into his chest. Thankfully he didn't say anything, didn't ask anything. Just held her, moving them away from the pedestrian traffic on Milwaukee. The simple act of not interrogating, or intruding or judging was enough to push Cailin over the edge. She crumbled in his arms; the safety and strength of them making her feel safe enough to fall apart. She buried her face in the fabric of his long-sleeved tee, and just let the tears flow.

Clarke felt shoulders gently shaking as he squeezed a little tighter, burying his face in her hair, fighting to hold back his own tears; he hated her being in pain, wished he could have a few minutes alone with that piece of Russian scum in those cages of Voight's. But he knew that wasn't what she needed. She had gotten in her own licks, and he knew enough about IU to know if anyone hurt a member of the pack, the punishment would be severe.

Something in her simultaneously broke and mended as they stood on the side street. A switch was flipped and her tears dried up, Clarke's arms tethering her to the here and now. She looked up at him, seeing a bright future in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jeff," she started, but she didn't get to finish her statement, his lips meeting hers firmly.

"No, no apologies. We are there for each other, Cally. Always," he said, when he broke off the kiss. "You have cut right to here," he said, tapping his chest, "since the moment I laid eyes on you, Cailin Callahan and I will give you the whole damn world if I can, but I won't listen to you apologize about anything having to do with what happened in New York."

There were equal measures of anger and love in his tone, rendering Cally speechless enough so she could just nod. "Good, then let's go back to the condo and maybe set aside some time to start looking for our own home." He smiled down at her, his eyes still clouded with a slight bit of sadness, wishing he could save her emotions as easily as he had saved her, not realizing he had already rescued her heart.

**Chapter 19: Fire Woman**

"For the love of all that is holy, mother! For the fifth time, I am not ducking you! Yes, we will come to dinner tomorrow night, I am just trying to catch up on my sleep!" Cailin snapped into her phone the next morning after Clarke had left for shift.

"I take it your mother is excited about your recent engagement?" came Erin Lindsay's voice over the line. "Oh Jesus Christ, Erin, please tell me Voight isn't calling a meeting. I thought he said we could take the weekend."

Erin chuckled, "oh he did, in fact he kicked me out of IU when I showed up to try to do some paperwork."

"But he's allowed to work?" Cally replied, pulling herself up and climbing out of bed, smiling at the coffee already waiting in the carafe on the counter.

"His unit, his rules. You know Hank," Erin shot back. "Anyway, since I've already busted up your beauty sleep, I was wondering if you might be interested in helping me pick out a dress for this Hundred Club banquet we are supposed to make a command appearance at?"

Cailin let out a sigh, "oh yeah that. I suppose I should find a dress."

"Your excitement is overwhelming, Callahan," Erin dripped.

"Not all of us come and go by bubble, Lindsay," Cailin shot back, "but I guess it will be nice to see everyone and have a night out on the town. I just always feel like I am playing dress up and look like a cupcake."

A broad grin formed across the brunette detective's face. "I think that should be Hank's new nickname for you."

Cailin let out a small growl, "you wouldn't dare."

Erin laughed, "meet me on Oak Street in an hour."

"You got a sugar daddy I don't know about," Cally asked, knowing how high-priced the Gold Coast street was.

"I know somebody," Erin quipped.

"Of course you do, Lindsay."

"I was planning on using my savings on a wedding, Erin, not a damn froo froo dress for some boring banquet dinner. Can't I just rent something?" Cailin said, looking up and down the posh street, feeling horribly underdressed and out of her league. Despite other cops and firefighters thinking Mt. Greenwood was fancy, it really wasn't. At its heart, it was a working-class Irish neighborhood; one both sides of her family had lived in for generations. Sure, she and her brothers were now priced out of it, but none of them had silver spoons in their mouths growing up.

Erin, despite her rough upbringing, looked completely at ease. "Quit your bitching, Callahan, I told you, I know somebody." Her reply caused a pair of yoga mat carrying sticks to stop and stare at them, both detectives leveling glares at the other women until they scampered into the nearest coffee shop.

Erin did, as promised, know somebody. A lithe up and coming designer with a shop above the old money masses who formerly was a who know went by Valentina and knew Erin from 'before'. The details were sparse other than she had been a CI, but the champagne was plentiful and as delicious as the frocks Valentina had set aside for them to try on.

"What are you going to tell me about first, the engagement or what Mykola said to have you strangle him?" Erin asked right as Cally had disrobed in the dressing room.

Cally had a feeling the timing was on purpose. "I don't know Erin, you wanna tell me about why Shay keeps complaining about Kelly's spinning out or why Halstead keeps mooning over you at work?"

"Touche," Erin retorted as Valentina called out, "I see I have two live wires to wardrobe today. I can't believe the good lord created two of you, Miss Thing."

"He didn't," Cally replied, stepping out after shimmying into the first dress, trying to ignore how much in plunged here and how high it was cut there. "She can run circles of sass around me any day," she paused as Erin stepped out as well, "and look a thousand times better than me doing it. Glad I already nabbed Jeff."

"Oh, so we're talking engagement first. Fine, carry on," Erin said, looking ethereal in a blush colored, flowing gown.

"He asked, I said yes, we love each other, logical next step. You don't really strike me as the roses and chocolates kind of girl, Lindsay," Cailin trailed off as she the storm clouds pass over her friend's eyes. "You aren't jealous are you, Erin?" she asked, slightly shocked. She couldn't believe that she had anything that Detective Hairporn couldn't flash her dimples at and snap her fingers and immediately obtain, but it seemed to be the case. Cailin shook her head, "seriously, Erin? Have you seen you? Met you? I am sure, if it is something you want, it won't be long in coming. I know Severide was a dope who messed up the best thing he could ever hope to have, but that doesn't mean you are going to die alone eaten by cats!"

Erin forced herself to not react. She wasn't normally a romantic, not really. Or more accurately, she didn't let herself be; it was emotionally safer that way and she had been crushed too many times in the past. But something about Kelly Severide had pierced her armor even if he did let her down. She was forced to admit she was slightly jealous of the newly engaged Cally. Which is why she wanted to join in some uncharacteristic girl-talk, to hear the whole tale, to giggle or whatever it was that normal girls did. She should have known better than to expect Callahan to partake in such normalcies. And now here she was calling her out on her deep dark secret: that Erin Lindsay did actually want to fall in love and get married. "I'm not saying I want that, I don't really think I'm really the marrying type."

Valentina and Cally exchanged a look. "Uh-huh." "Sure."

"This dress is too angelic for me, V, what else you got?" Erin said, desperate to change the subject.

After wrenching every last detail out of Cally about the engagement, Erin finally let her friend try on the other dresses Valentina had set aside for them, with Cailin finally settling on a midnight gown that showed off enough of her figure to keep the designer and her friend happy but covered enough with strategic lace to keep her comfortable.

They left the shop, chatting and laughing like so many other women on the well-heeled street. Until some meth-head try to jack an old lady's purse and both women dropped their garment bags and went into full cop mode chasing him down. They sat on him, literally, until the precinct uniforms rolled up, snickering. "Effing bitches," the meth head whined as Cally's elbow met its mark when he laughed at the snickering.

"Keep it up, chuckles," Erin warned, huskily. "I don't know about you, but I think I worked up an appetite chasing down this scum. I know a great little hole in the wall, Joe's."

Cally shrugged, "I could eat, of course I usually can and if I'm eating, I can't answer my constantly ringing phone."

Erin studied her for a moment before softly saying, "Most women would be more excited about this, you know."

Her friend let out a long breath. "I know. It's not that I'm not excited. I just…we have both been married before, and it turned out poorly, to say the least, for both of us."

"You could say that," Erin replied, tossing her head back with a laugh.

"I don't want to discount either of our histories, good or bad, so it feels kind of weird making a big deal out of this. I'm not really a big deal kind of girl, ya know?"

"Oh, I know," she nodded in agreement, "but you aren't discounting anything, Callahan. You and Clarke got a good thing, celebrate it; it is allowed, encouraged even. So what if you were both married before? You two found each other now, enjoy it."

"We've only known each other a year, though."

Erin rolled her eyes, growing impatient. "And your point is? You two act like you've known each other a lifetime. Not to mention, as you just pointed out, you aren't dumb kids rushing into anything."

Cally wrinkled her nose, deep in thought. "I guess you are right."

Erin's eyebrows shot up and down as a mischievous, dimpled smile spread across her face, "usually am."

"He's coming, I promise. I told you he was with a bunch of the guys helping Hermann with some house repairs. Apparently one of his kids fell through the back porch last week. I seriously don't know how Cindy puts up with all of it." Cally caught the look between her mother and her sisters-in-law. "I saw that, the lot of you. Please stay out of my womb for the next few hours at least, would you?"

"I can't help it, my baby is getting married and she would make such beautiful babies with her handsome fireman," Mary Margaret exclaimed, dramatically dabbing at her eyes.

Cam saw the vein start to throb on his sister's forehead first, deftly refilling her glass from the bottle of wine on the table. "We'll be right back, I gotta go show Cally something outside."

The Callahan matriarch's eyebrows knitted together. "What do you have to show her now? It is dark out and dinner will be ready soon. Are you sure Jeff will be here in time, sweetie?"

Cailin's groan was cut-off by Cam dragging her outside. "They mean well, sis," he started.

"Yeah, well I see Elizabeth is conveniently not at this shit show," Cally countered.

"I told you she is chaperoning a class trip."

"As I said, convenient. Oh thank God," she said as Clarke's car pulled up behind one of her brother's.

"That is what your Marine drives, maybe I won't let you marry him," Cam teased, pointing at the sedan.

Cally glared at him, "I don't think it was his choice, Cameron Philip!"

Clarke chuckled as he walked up, watching Cally's hands go to her hips as she dressed her brother down for something, though he covered it quickly as her icy look turned to him. "Having fun without me, I see," he said, unable to hide the slight smirk.

Cailin tried her best to look perturbed, but her security blanket had arrived and she immediately felt her tension dissipate as she closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around him of their own accord.

"Bite me, Cam," she said over her shoulder as her brother made gagging noises, "go tell Ma the guest of honor is here and we'll be right in."

"Fine, but if you don't get in there soon, she'll have Conner or Colin turn the hose on you two," he warned with a broad grin as he jogged back toward the house.

"You okay?" Cailin asked on their drive back home. She worried about his quietness, not that he was ever really verbose, but there was something in his expression. He had held his own at dinner, and those in attendance had actually been on pretty good behavior. It had only been awkward when Coleman's wife seemed to forget Cailin was previously married and subsequently widowed, but the concurrent squalling of their infant provided enough of an excuse for her forgetfulness.

Clarke nodded. He was, truly, but the dinner had been a bit overwhelming. Not to mention it made him miss what he never had growing up. Most of his dinners involved his older brother heating something in the microwave and not letting him watch what her wanted on TV while their mother worked late at her second job.

"I know they can seem like a lot and this was without everyone there...but they do mean well. At least I think they do. This is why I moved away, why I wanted out of Mount G so bad when I moved back. And they like you, the teasing means they like you, Jeff; otherwise they would give you the cold shoulder. You can ask Matt. And even if they didn't like you, it doesn't matter because I love you! And ignore my mother, please, we don't really have to get married in the same church my parents did, I swear, not to mention it is probably booked for the next ten year-"

Clarke braked heavily, smirking slightly. "Callahan, take a breath, would you?"

She nodded and complied, still tense as she worried about what he was thinking.

"Your family is fine, really. Yes, there are a lot of them, and yes, they are pretty opinionated. At least I know you come by it honestly," he teased, ducking as she swatted at him. "Being there actually made me kind of jealous, I didn't have that growing up, and I wish I had." He paused, remaining quiet for a long moment, the air in the car growing slightly heavy.

Cailin's hand reached across the car, sliding up his arm and pulling his hand off the steering wheel as she thread her fingers through his. "I wish you would have had that growing up, too."

He worked his jaw, swallowing down his emotions, taking in the heat and comfort of Cally's hand in his, the metal of her ring reminding him of the promise of a future with her and he silently vowed that their children would grow up in a house full of love and loud family dinners.

As if she could almost read his mind, he felt Cally squeeze his hand gently and say, "I'm sorry I won't get to meet your mother, but I can tell you she has a damn fine son. I'll love you forever, cowboy."


	7. Rooms on Fire

**Chapter 20: Rooms on Fire**

"Don't you have someplace to be, cupcake?" Voight asked, giving Callahan a look as she hunched over her desk, deep in a report, adjusting the bowtie on his tux.

She followed his finger to the clock on the wall and took in his attire. "Damn! Is that what Erin meant about heading to the locker room?" She realized what Voight had called her and took in the smirk on his face, "Freaking, Lindsay, I am going to kill her!"

Voight let out a chuckle as the blonde tried to shut down her computer and gather up her things while simultaneously trying to text her fellow detective, a pile of files and her phone falling to the floor. He picked up her phone and waved her off. "See you there, Callahan," he said, still laughing.

Cailin looked at him, wondering where this kinder, gentler Hank Voight was coming from and debated if there was a woman involved; but she didn't have time to ponder such mysteries considering she was supposed to be at the Palmer House in formal wear in 28 minutes.

"Crap, crap, crap!" Cailin swore, storming into the locker room, already tearing off her clothes.

"Everything okay?" Kim Burgess asked, stripping out of her uniform and into street clothes, about to meet Adam for another on the DL date.

Cailin grumbled, "yeah except I have like ten minutes to turn into freaking Cinderella and-" she broke off taking in her fellow detective. "Really, Lindsay, I have to compete with that?" she growled gesturing to her gorgeous friend in the custom fit, sheer green gown from Valentina.

"I told you it was time to hit it, Callahan," Erin remarked, pausing to gloss her lips.

"Next time be more specific," Cailin retorted, shoving her clothes into her locker and yanking her dress over her head.

Erin shook her head, "you were just at the City Hall ceremony seven hours ago!"

"And 2 CIs and 4 gangbangers ago," Cailin shot back, pulling her hair back into a messy chignon. "Looks like I'll be doing my makeup in the cab," she sighed.

Burgess shook her head, "give me five minutes." True to her word, the former flight attendant had the detective fully made up in five minutes, a look of satisfaction on her face.

"You are a miracle worker, Burgess!" Cally exclaimed taking in her handiwork.

"Stare at yourself later, Callahan, or we are going to be late," Erin quipped, as Cailin followed her out, struggling to put on her heels.

Clarke was waiting for her next to the gilded peacock doors, looking down at his watch. "Worried I would stand you up, cowboy?" Cailin teased.

Clarke was about to make a joke when he caught sight of her in the midnight blue dress that hugged her curves perfectly, the sheer lace panels leaving just enough to the imagination; though his insider knowledge made him wish he could just sweep her away to a room upstairs. "And here I thought you looked gorgeous at City Hall earlier today," he said, smiling down at her and kissing her on the cheek.

"Nice try. No woman actually looks good in their dress blues, but thanks," she said taking his offered arm as the porter held the door open for them. "You're looking very 007 yourself this evening, sir. You sure we gotta show up to this?"

Clarke nodded, despite desperately wanting to hail a cab directly home, their people were all gathered upstairs and they both knew how important these moments were, awards ceremony or not. "Yeah, but remind me that you and me need to do this more often without having to meet up with a bunch of lugs," he said, trailing his hand down her back, sending shivers up her spine.

The scene in the State Ballroom was as much a reunion as it was an awards dinner, despite having seen each other at City Hall earlier in the day. That affair was much more staid, the men of 51 alongside Clarke and Dowling receiving the prestigious Carter Harrison award from the mayor; while Antonio and Cally received Blue Star honorable mentions, though Voight loudly complained they should have received the actual award.

The Hundred Club event, while still black tie, was definitely a celebration. Everyone was dressed for the occasion, though Cally was pretty sure Otis' powder blue tux had come from a 1970's thrift store; Katie Severide didn't seem to mind, dressed in a matching gown. Kelly Severide was less amused, making a face that detracted from the otherwise handsome figure he cut in his tux, but a swat from Shay set him on the straight and narrow quick enough. Though it didn't stop Kelly from glaring at Peter Mill's laughter, an empty seat between him and the more traditionally attired Joe Cruz, who was already lost in deep conversation with his first, and by the looks of it, last, love. Capp and Tony and their wives, who were busy exchanging babysitter info while the guys talked sports, rounded out their table.

Clarke pointed out their seats at the next table, where Hermann and Mouch were seated, looked uncomfortable. Already tugging at their ties, as Cindy gently chastised them both, with the amused patience that only a mother of Hermann's brood could possess. Cally did a second double take at the gussied up Trudy Platt in the seat next to Mouch. Apparently the pair was, in fact a pair. She and Erin exchanged a brief look as they took their seats next to Matt, Gabby and Antonio.

"Don't worry, ladies, I am off the clock. No rank here," Trudy said, misinterpreting the look the woman had given each other.

"Good to know," Erin and Cally quipped in unison, garnering laughter from everyone else.

"Doesn't Donna look wonderful, she is glowing. I don't think I looked like that with a single one of my pregnancies, do you Christopher?" Cindy Hermann remarked, catching sight of the Chief and his heavily pregnant wife making their way to one of the tables up front, where Newhouse's family were guests of honor.

"You looked better, sweetie," Hermann shot back without missing a beat, the younger men at the table working hard to hide their snickers and snorts. "If you boys were wise, you'd be taking notes," he said, glaring at them.

Cally leaned in a whispered in Clarke's ear, "please don't take any notes from Hermann."

"Babe, I passed my Lieutenants' exam on the first try, remember," he shot back, squeezing her thigh under the table, removing his palm only as the salad course was served.

"Speaking of off-the-clock and no ranks," Erin said, "I'm glad he is not sitting at our table."

Cally followed her finger to a table full of mainly CPD brass, watching as their boss shook hands. She nodded in agreement, knowing that even if they had slightly warmed to the head of IU, neither Casey nor Clarke would want to share a table with them.

Cally had just taken a large bite of prime rib when she heard her and Antonio's names being echoed over the A/V system. She started sputtering and choking as she looked around to figure out what was going on, both Casey and Clarke looking ready to do the Heimlich as they simultaneously reached over to thump her on the back. She ducked out of their reach, pushing her chair back and grumbling, "damn show offs," as she followed Antonio up to the makeshift stage to accept their Valor Award.

"Did you know about this?" she asked through a gritted teeth smile as they posed for a photograph.

"Not a clue, just thought it was a pity invite for our participation trophy earlier today," Antonio shot back, looking equally uncomfortable and stunned.

"It is wrong to kill your boss, right?" Cally quipped, the CEO looking a little disturbed.

Antonio nodded, turning to the CEO and saying, "she's just joking."

Luckily the MC was already moving on to the next awards and they were ushered back toward their seats. "I think they all knew," Cally remarked, realizing there were tables full of people standing, clapping and generally causing a ruckus.

"Just think of this as a primer for your wedding, Callahan."

"And exactly why I am damn glad I eloped the first time," she shot back, trying unsuccessfully to slink back to her seat.

Cailin was beet red by the time she got back to her table, everyone still standing. "So I got shot, big deal, I don't run into burning buildings everyday, so sit down, the lot of you!" she admonished.

They complied, while still giving their well wishes. "You can't blame 'em for being proud of you, babe, they're family," Clarke remarked as she tugged him back into his chair.

"Yeah, well," she stammered, not able to handle the spotlight on her and more than a little overwhelmed, the look he was giving her not helping. They got lost in their own world for a moment until the words 'South State Street' caught their attention at the same time.

"Looks like it is someone else's turn, huh?" she said, giving him a look and a small smile that grew broader as all their names were called out

Cally pulled Clarke in by his tux jacket as soon as he was within arms reach, ignoring his bashful expression as she landed a kiss on him teasing, "you can't blame us for being proud of you, Jeff."

**Chapter 21: Lighting Fires**

"You know we could probably get faster service if Shay wasn't making out with the other bartender in the bathroom," Cally remarked next to Severide waiting in the long line at the bar.

He let out a laugh, "it wouldn't surprise me."

"It shouldn't, it's true, I walked in on them and she just texted me to apologize. I don't feel like it was very sincere. But good for her, I know she's been struggling since Devon skipped out. I kinda feel bad," Cally admitted.

Kelly shrugged, "don't, Leslie will be fine, she always is. She creates more drama than is needed half the time, any girl that is worth anything she insists is boring or not a challenge, but the crazy ones…she practically invites them to move in."

They stood in silence for a while, the line not moving much until Cally started in with, "So about you and Erin…"

"I am not talking about it, Callahan," Kelly replied, his blue eyes narrowing.

"I'm not prying, Kelly. I just want to make sure it is really done between the two of you, it seemed like you were pretty great for each other. And I am not picking sides."

"Nobody is asking you to pick sides, Cal," Kelly said, relieved that they were next in line to get drinks, there was something about the seriousness in her blue eyes that reminded him a little too much of the last time Leslie had pinned him down to give him a piece of her mind about messing things up with Erin, as well as his cohorting with coeds and his drinking and…well just about everything.

"You keep looking like that, Kel, and maybe we should make it a double," Cally said, giving him pat on the cheek, "cheer up, buttercup, you're far too pretty to glower."

"Hilarious, Callahan, now if you don't mind, I think I am going to go over there," he said, draining most of his whiskey as he made a beeline for a group of seemingly unattached women.

Cally sipped on her drink, heading back to the now mostly empty tables, everyone having scattered now that the party portion of the evening was in full swing.

She looked around, catching sight of Clarke, Hermann and Mouch in the Casino area that had been set up at one end of the ballroom. She thought about heading over, but decided against it, not wanting to break up the bonding.

She waved goodbye to Capp, Tony and their wives as they hastily left, saying something about needing to get babysitters home since it was a school night. She wondered if that was where Cindy had disappeared to as well, when she spied her and Trudy conspiring over near a dessert table.

Everyone else seemed to have taken to the dance floor, with the exception of Mills, who was being fawned over by a gorgeous woman with tawny colored skin that Cally thought she recognized as an ADA. She suddenly felt a bit out of place; almost going over to talk to Voight, who was now sitting with Boden and Donna, Newhouse's family having made an early exit. She debated her next course of action as she looked out at the city lights stretched out around them.

"You aren't thinking about sneaking out, are you, Cal, these windows don't open, you know."

"I didn't sneak out that often, Matty-boy, wasn't I usually sneaking you in?" she shot back, turning to her oldest friend with a smile on her face.

He smiled, slightly bitterly, at the memory, trying to ignore his reasons for sneaking into the Callahan house growing up. "Yeah, except your entire family knew what you were doing, why do you think they never replaced the lock on your window?"

"We never were as good as we thought we were, huh?"

Matt shook his head, "nope. Mostly because your brothers had already done it all and then some." He paused, looking at her for a long beat. "Congratulations, Cal."

Cally shrugged, "you got the same award, better by the city and you should have. I barely got zinged, it was nothing."

"On getting engaged, Cally. I'm happy for you. Jeff's a solid guy, he'll treat you right." Matt looked slightly uncomfortable, shuffling his feet before saying, "seeing as 'Tonio is trying to make me look bad, wanna dance, Gabby says I need lots of practice before the wedding." He gestured to where Gabby and her brother were out cutting a rug on the dance floor, alongside Katie and Otis, Joe and Taylor and now Cindy and Trudy.

Cally laughed, taking his offered hand, "while that is probably true, you have eight months, Matt!"

"Tell that to her or her mother," Matt grumbled as he led her out to the floor.

"You had her the first however many years, Casey, hand her over," Clarke remarked behind them a couple of songs later.

"I thought you didn't really dance, cowboy," Cally remarked, nestling effortlessly and happily in his arms.

"As I said, you bring out the best in me," he replied, spinning her with equal effortlessness.

"Back at you, Jeff," she said, her lips greedily meeting his as he pulled her tighter against him.

The night was growing late and long, the guys having disappeared to the game tables again. Gabby, Shay and Cally sat at a table, catching up like old times.

They noticed a pair making their way over, Cally motioning to Shay and Gabby, "good thing you two are here, I'm was worried Donna's was gonna pop that baby out before the dessert course."

"Well that kid would have had to wait until after I got my Bertha Brownie," Shay shot back, to peals of laughter.

"It is nice to see everyone having a good time, just be safe getting home," Boden said, with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Donna and they made their way toward the door.

"Okay, now that the boys are finally all gone, let's talk wedding, Callahan," Shay said moving next to Cailin, propping her chin on her fist, looking at her friend with wide blue eyes.

"Er, what about it? I've been engaged for all of a week, Leslie!"

"Then you better get cracking, because if you listen to Gabby, it is quiet the undertaking." Gabby peered around from the other side of Cally to glare at her friend. "Oh, don't give me that look, Gabriela! But surely you and old Clarke have talked about it!"

Cally let out a snort before saying, "yeah, we've sort of talked about it. Mostly all the months we don't want to get married. February and May are out for me because bad luck central, September is out for him because Lisa. June because Gabby and Matt, we already ditched January because you know how much I love winter," she rolled her eyes, "it can suck it except the holidays, it's the only time of year snow seems worth the hassle. So that's nearly half the year already. Maybe we should just elope, it wasn't so horrible doing the courthouse thing the first time."

"That's exactly why you can't this time, Cailin!" Shay admonished.

"Isn't helping Gabby plan her wedding more than enough for you, Leslie?" Cally shot back, "besides," she looked sheepish, "I kind of just want to be done with it. Wait, that doesn't sound right. I love Jeff, I have since the first moment I laid eyes on him. I just realize how precious having a second chance is and I don't want to wait. I also don't want to steal any of your thunder, Gabs," she said, looking at her friend with a furrowed brow.

"Please, girl, you aren't stealing anything, not to mention with the wedding my mother is planning I don't think Zeus could steal my thunder. Get married whenever you want."

"So what about the holidays?" Shay suggested.

"That's over a year away, did you miss where I said I didn't-"

"These holidays, Cal."

"Like in a few of months from now?" Cally replied, looking confused.

"It is soon, but luckily Gabby's mother has already planned like 14 weddings on Pinterest," Shay teased.

"I mean maybe…" Cal replied, trailing off, her head swirling, knowing this would be the only winter break Clarke would get during his accelerated med program. But that was crazy, she couldn't get married that soon, she had just gotten engaged!

"Whoop whoop," Shay grinned as she drew both Cally and Gabby friends into a hug.

"Um, shouldn't we maybe loop the groom into this?" Cailin retorted, feeling both excited and panicked.

**Chapter 22: Fire in the Morning**

"Wait so Shay suggested what now?" Clarke asked in the back of the cab on the way home. Cally had managed to shush her overly excited friend up, even if the women had dissolved into laughter when Clarke walked up a couple of moments after the wedding date discussion as though his ears were burning.

Cailin shrugged, picking at the manicure she had foolishly let Erin talk her into Saturday afternoon. "That we should get married in a couple of months over the holidays," she said, more to her window than to her fiancée. She worked to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, to deny that she actually liked Shay's idea. Sure it was crazy and impulsive, much like Leslie herself, but she had a point. And she knew her two friends well.

"I mean if the schedules work and we can find someplace…" Clarke said, "it is my only winter break."

"Are you seriously contemplating this, Jeff?" she asked incredulously.

"You should have heard some of the ideas Shay had for proposing to you, planning a wedding in a couple of months is incredibly tame and possible compared to those."

Cally let out a combined laugh and a sigh, "we really need to get her a girlfriend and a new career."

"Can we focus on one miracle at a time, babe? And more importantly can we get home first?" The look he gave her was enough for Cally to tell the drive to step on it.

Waking up in Jeff's arms the next morning made her never want to leave their warm and mussed bed. She just wished she could remember when he had class.

"Morning," he said barely opening one eye, a lazy smile on his face as he felt Cally stir.

"A very good one, I would say," she replied, moving up for a kiss.

He eagerly returned it, heat growing between them immediately. "You aren't going to have to jump up and rush into the precinct, right?" he asked, eyes clouded with lust.

"Not a snowball's chance, cowboy," she retorted, trailing down his body.

"We should talk about setting a wedding date more often," Clarke remarked with a satisfied grin while making breakfast a while later.

Cally let out a small laugh, perched on a stool at the breakfast bar clad only in a truck 25 t-shirt, lazily flipping through the paper; her phone blessedly silent beside her. "That had nothing to do with Shay's insane idea and everything to do with how hot you looked in your tux last night."

"What was last night about then, Cal?"

"Still the tux."

Clarke smiled, putting a plate of food in front of her. "Gotta keep your strength up, then. And as I said, we really need to do that more often without shit having to go sideways first."

"I don't need fancy, Jeff, you know that," she retorted, digging happily into her food.

He smirked, "good thing, considering how you just attacked that food." He made his own plate, sliding beside her, pausing with his fork hovering over his plate.

He had stayed awake the night before, after a satiated Cailin practically passed out next to him, thinking about Shay's suggestion. He meant what he had said before, he would marry Cally in a heartbeat, but she should have a wedding. And he wanted more than just a piece of paper; he wanted their relationship cemented in the eyes of the law, their people, and God.

Except for the tiny issue of his divorce and not being Catholic, something Mary Margaret had cornered him about when he carried a stack of dishes into the kitchen after the big Callahan family dinner. He neglected to tell Cally about this, she already isolated herself from her family far more than needed. She still seemed slightly hung up on the idea that she was a bit of an unwanted mistake, even if anybody else could tell in a second around her family that couldn't be further from the truth.

Cailin's mother had firmly informed him her only daughter was going to have at least one wedding in a Catholic Church, regardless of the groom; while kindly reminding him to not worry, because they had an in with the big guy. He still hadn't figured out if she meant God or the Archbishop; but in this town, those weren't that far apart.

"You gonna eat or just stare at your food? It is clear you didn't grow up with a bunch of older brothers, Clarke," Cally teased.

He made a face. "No, I was just thinking Shay's idea isn't so insane. There's no reason to wait other than planning, but we know people who know people, so how hard can it be?"

"You are in med school and doing weekend shifts for one. Finding a church that is free and convincing them to waive the six month wait period without me being knocked-up for another," Cally grumbled.

"Holy Family," Clarke countered.

"Yes, we've clarified my family is crazy Catholic," she grumbled again, stabbing at her food.

Clarke shook his head, "the church, babe, on Roosevelt. 51 stopped it from burning down during their renovations last fall, so we're kind of a big deal to them. Not to mention your brother." He gave her a look before digging into his own food.

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to have an answer for everything?"

"Because while you were sawing logs last night, I was doing some thinking."

"I do not snore, Jeff Clarke!"

"Sure you don't, babe," he smiled, kissing the look of horror off her face.

"Afternoon, cupcake," Voight remarked with a wink when she arrived up in IU.

"I really am going to kill Erin for that," Cally growled, thinking there just had to be a new woman in Voight's life. She looked around, Antonio and Erin either still not in or out on a case, Jay & Atwater's desks also empty, while Alvin and Adam were deep into files.

Voight quickly switch back into buttoned up mode. "While you were getting your beauty rest or whatever, a case came in, I want you and Halstead on it. Files are on your desk, brief him when he gets back with Atwater."

Cally looked at him a long beat, surprised he wasn't pairing up Erin and Jay like he normally did. Maybe more was going on between the two than she knew, she vowed to have a chat with him at some point on this case.

"We have to do what?" Cally exclaimed as she finished reading through the file, storming into Voight's office.

"Your Marine isn't going to have a problem with this, is he, Callahan?" Voight replied, not budging from his spot behind his desk, legs thrown up on its top.

Cailin narrowed her eyes, "Clarke is not my keeper, he knows this is my job. You consider I might have a problem with this, sir?"

"As you said, this is your job and nobody else wanted you from downstairs, so get cracking."

"Is this a low girl on the totem thing?"

Voight shook his head, "not specifically…"

"So why me and not Erin? I just did the UC Krok job and we both know how that turned out!" she exclaimed. Voight shook his head with a sigh, finally rising and walking towards her. "I think you know exactly why you and not Erin," he said with finality.

"It doesn't have to be Halstead!" she protested.

"Who, who else? Me and Olinsky are too old, Atwater's too green, both of you two would eat Ruzek for breakfast after an hour and Dawson has a lot on his plate right now. That leaves Halstead."

Cailin looked like she wanted to argue but the very person they were talking about appeared at the top of the stairs.

Voight all but pushed her out of the office. "Oh good, you're back. Halstead, Callahan, I know pronounce you unhappily married."

"Come again?" Jay asked, looking puzzled, the rest of IU staring at them equally confused.

Cally rolled her eyes, "I'll catch you up, but we're going to Molly's to do so, we both will need a drink."

"You weren't kidding about needing a drink, where you Callahan?" Halstead said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Cailin raised her eyebrows, topping off his glass from the bottle she had Shay pull out for them. "I never kid about drinking, Jay."

"Why us?" he asked, still looking a little taken aback.

"Because I have to prove to a contract killer that I don't like you, and apparently Voight doesn't think Erin would be able to do that for some reason," she stressed, giving him a look.

"Oh that," Halstead replied, draining his glass.

Cailin mirrored his actions saying, "yeah, that, though let's put that on the back burner and figure out how quickly we can play unhappily ever after and almost get you killed."

"It's a good thing there aren't normal customers around," Shay said, wiping down the bar and giving them a look.

"It's 3pm, Shay, any customers in here would be drunks and wouldn't remember what they heard."

Shay put her hands up, "I'm just saying. You tell Clarke about this," she gestured between the two of them, "shotgun wedding yet?"

"No, Leslie, I have not. I haven't seen him since I left this morning talking about our, thanks to you, own practical shotgun wedding," Cally retorted.

"Hold up, you aren't saying what I think you're saying," Halstead interrupted, looking panicked.

Cally shook her head, "no, Jay, I am not with child. You just saw me plow through a glass of whiskey! Shay here had the brilliant idea last night that Jeff and I should get married around the holidays and for some reason he actually thought this insane idea was a good one."

"He did, oh good!" Shay replied, her eyes glimmering with excitement.

"Yeah, he did, I'm glad you are both so into this. Maybe you two can plan the whole damn thing while Halstead and I are playing house over in Lincoln Park."

Shay practically bounced, "really?"

"No, not really. Aren't you helping Gabby with her wedding extravaganza? Why are you so into this?" Cally asked, feeling a bit incredulous. Shay had become increasingly anti-wedding with each day that passed toward Gabby and Matt's wedding, so it was weird to see her so on-board, in fact, almost over-board with her and Jeff's.

Shay shrugged, "I don't know, Clarke's just like my lesbro, you know? He's been there for me when I needed him to be, even when I didn't know I needed him to be."

"What about Kelly?" Cally pointed out, noticing how the second mention of the fireman's name brought a glower to Jay's face.

Shay rolled her eyes, "puh-lease, girl, even if Kelly ever got married, you know he would never let me plan a single thing. Except maybe the bachelor party," she grinned wickedly, "and more likely he would just stroll all casual into work one day and be all, hey guys, you catch the game last night, oh no, I missed it, because I was too busy tying the knot."

Cally couldn't help but laugh at Shay's impression and Halstead's increasing discomfort. "Enough, enough. Cool your jets, Leslie Shay, and I promise you'll be the first person I call when I need help. Now, Jay, darling, what is it that you have done to me that makes me what to have you whacked?"

"You better not get any ideas, Halstead," Clarke said, menacingly, glaring at the other man later that evening, having met them at Molly's after class. Halstead tightened his jaw, going into Ranger mode, facing off with the jarhead until Cally burst out laughing.

"He's messing with you, Jay, jeez," she said, "but your face is kind of priceless."

"Yeah, hilarious, except for that time I had to fit him for an ELMO after Dawson arrested him for murder," Halstead grumbled. "Seriously though, we're cool, right, man?" he asked, sticking his hand out.

Clarke shook it readily, "yeah, we're cool." He was trying to not worry about this assignment, especially after how the Krok turned out. At least this time someone else would be in with her, and they would be wired-in the entire time. He also sensed something of a kindred spirit in Jay Halstead, and knew he would have Cally's six. "Just make sure she has coffee in the mornings, otherwise she'll kill you long before some hired gun can try to."

"Thanks a lot, love you too," she replied, playfully swatting at him.

He caught her arm, pulling her next to him, wrapping his arm around her waist. "So just when do you two start shacking up?"

"Voight's working out the details," Halstead replied, clearing his throat, suddenly feeling very much like a third wheel. "Think I'm going to go check in with him on that."

Cally let out a small laugh as soon as he left. "I am pretty sure if he hadn't seen combat, he would have pissed his skinny jeans, babe."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to make it clear he knew he better make sure nothing happened to you." He saw her expression change. "I know you can take care of yourself, Cal, but you're my girl, you're going to be my wife and I'm not ever going to stop worrying about you."

The look of concern on his face was enough to melt Cailin's burst of anger away. She turned and looked up at him, a small smile on her face as she laid a palm against his face, "still planning on coming home to you for a long time yet, Jeff."

**Chapter 23: Strange Fire**

"You seem oddly calm about this, unless you're doing that simmering rage thing again," Cailin said, looking at Clarke lying on the bed studying as she packed a suitcase at the foot of it.

Clarke shrugged, "it's your job, gotta go better than the last one. Besides, it's Halstead's head on the chopping block, not yours."

Cailin smiled, though it was slightly hollow. "I suppose you have a point." She caught sight of the price tag hanging from the new pair of designer duds that Voight had sent over as part of their cover. "Who the hell pays $100 for something that is going to be covered in butt sweat?" She remarked, holding up the pair of yoga shorts.

Clarke let out a snort. "Idiots, but you might want to keep that to yourself while you are trying to get in good with the Richie Riches."

"You saying I'm not classy, babe?" she teased, shaking her head at another price tag. This suitcase probably contained the down payment to a house.

"Not touching that with a bangor," he replied, stretching before he rose from the bed and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "Now would you finish throwing all that crap in there so I can send you off properly?"

"Consider me packed," she replied, hastily dumping the pile of clothing in and shoving the bag off the bed so they could fall into it.

Cailin burst out laughing as Jay climbed out of the fully loaded SUV Voight had assigned to them. He glared at her, looking acutely uncomfortable. "Sorry, Jay, I can't help it. You look like a douche," she said taking in his salmon colored pants and carefully layered shirt, sweater vest and popped-collar polo.

"Yeah, yuk it up, because you look like a basic bitch," he shot back, thinking he would much rather be shot at than going on this assignment. Not that he didn't want to work with Callahan, but having to rub elbows with the élite gave him nightmares.

Cally raised an eyebrow before sliding her giant sunglasses back up her nose. "Good, then we will fit in perfectly. Let's roll."

They both whistled upon entering the massive penthouse overlooking the lake. Little above our pay grades, huh? Cally remarked, taking in the view.

"This place is bigger than my building! That TV is bigger than my apartment," Jay retorted, "maybe you can go to the thing at the club without me and I can catch the game?"

Cal glared at him, "not a chance, Halstead."

"Keep glaring at me like that and we will be able to wrap this up real quick."

The evening was torture to them both, but they hobnobbed well enough with their cover story (Cally as trust fund girl from back East with Jay as the poor tennis instructor she fell in love with, her family shipping them to Chicago until she wised up) to get invited to another event the next evening.

They both had spent the day kissing up to the pretty people, trying to get in on the fast track of the unhappily wed, which really appeared to be the majority. Both were in foul moods by the time the charity event rolled around that evening.

"I look ridiculous, this is ridiculous, why can't these people just have long, drawn, out expensive divorces on reality shows like normal rich people?" Cailin said, circulating through crowd, garnering laughter over the comm Mouse had whipped up for them.

"At least you aren't wearing plaid pants," Jay shot back, feeling even more ridiculous.

"True, you win…or lose, now come on, let's stage a hissed whisper fight over by the bar, because I think I see our targets," Cally said, spying the guns for hire across the room.

Dominic Scalise and Petra Alfaro made for a striking pair, more easily settling into the well-heeled crowd than the detectives trying to take them down. They had already made their way down the East Coast, from Boston to Miami, leaving a wake of not so grieving widow and widowers behind. Both were hired guns for the mob for years, but they found a lot more bang for their buck in the niche market that found burying a spouse far cheaper and less messy than a divorce. The couple was frighteningly good at staging tragic accidents, which is why nobody caught on until they rolled up in the Windy City and one of Olinksy's CIs informed them of an "insurance scam".

"You are the reason we are stuck in this hell hole, if you hadn't embarrassed Daddy in front of his friends, we would be living in Greenwich right now!" Cally hissed as soon as Dom and Petra were in earshot.

"Like those jerks matter. They're just an ATM to me."

"And apparently so I am I. Don't think I'm just going to keep filling your bank account so you can go get cozy with skanks, Jason!"

"Whatever, sweetheart, you wanted to piss daddy off, well mission freaking accomplished, now pay up."

"Go to hell, you miserable leech."

"I already told you what it would take to get me to disappear."

"Oh I'll make you disappear," Cally muttered, making sure she made eye contact with Dominic.

It must have worked because after Jay walked away and started making flirtatious rounds, Dominic approached Cally as she stood at a cocktail table in the corner, nursing a glass of wine. Just being around all these high-rent, shallow people made her want to down several glasses, but she knew she was on the job.

"You're too pretty to be standing all alone and frowning," he said, giving her a long once over.

Cailin forced herself to smile, even though she really wanted to tell him he was being insulting and sexist. But she had to get him to offer to whack her fake husband, and telling him off wasn't going to get this job done any faster so she could get home to her real soon-to-be husband. "Better?" she said, keeping her tone light and hopefully playful.

"Much. Leo Giovanni, nice to meet you," Dominic smoothly lied.

"Catherine Johnson, pleasure," Cally lied right back, putting out her hand daintily.

Dominic moved in closer, sitting his drink on the table, settling right in. "I haven't been here very long myself, but I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you a new member?"

"Just visiting, hopefully, I'm from back East. I've been put in time out," she smiled, trying to look slightly flirtatious, hoping it was working.

"Whatever ever for, Miss Johnson?" he smiled, with a look that told Cally it was, in fact, working. She spun a lock of hair around her finger, being careful to not dislodge the scarf that hid her scars, which could potentially ruin the poor little rich girl look. "It's Mrs. Harper, actually, and that's the problem. Daddy wasn't so found of me running off with my tennis instructor. I suppose after mother took off with her Pilates instructor, it is a bit of a sore subject, but…true love and all that," she shrugged.

He looked at her carefully, before his eyes wandered to where Jay was easily chatting it up with a striking redhead. "Is that so?" he said, a slight teasing tone.

"Or too much tequila after finding out my newest step-monster is barely older than I am. Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I hear that a lot," Dominic said, unable to hide his grin.

"I don't know what you are moaning about, Halstead, you've spent the past couple of weeks flirting and being fawned over," Cally said, barely looking up from her phone while Halstead complained about them having to go to another event that night.

He pursed his lips, "I just don't see how there can possibly be this many things to raise money for. And those women are all ridiculous airheads who just want to gossip about who has had plastic surgery or whine about how many calories are in everything. One of them actually asked me if air has calories. Air, Callahan!"

"You poor thing, I'll say a novena for you."

Jay sneered at her, "Your sympathy is overwhelming. Remind me to thank Voight for bringing you on to IU."

"Yeah, well sorry you didn't get to play house with Erin," she snapped, feeling slightly guilty about it until she saw the look cross Jay's face. She put down her phone, now was a good a time as any for that chat she had meant to have. "Okay, sorry I snapped, but," she paused not knowing if she should continue. 

"But what?" he snapped.

Cally waited a long beat, moving across the large room and perching on the edge of a chair next to the couch he was sitting on. "What is the deal with the two of you? You sort of act like you two have history, but I didn't think you did and you definitely acted like a jealous ex around Severide and now that they aren't together…"

"I was not jealous! Jay protested, his voice raising.

"Your face turned red every time Kelly's name came up and god forbid you had to share the same air space as him, I worried you are going to break a molar. All I know is I went into UC and they were together and then they weren't because he stood her up a couple of times. Like we don't have to do that all the time. Maybe it is none of my business, but I can't help but wonder who fed her that line about not being the girl waiting in the restaurant because it sure as hell doesn't sound like her!"

"You're right, Callahan, it is none of your business, so stay out of it," he growled.

Cally leaned back, "except I think it is my business, Jay. I want to know what is going on between the two of you or what you want to be going on between the two of you because we can't have that kind of tension at work. We are a family up in IU, we have to have each other's backs, always!"

Jay looked at Cally for a moment, knowing she was calling him out. He did have feelings for Erin and they didn't go away when Severide had swooped in with this chiseled everything and stolen his person. When the other man wasn't treating her right, he did encourage her to remember she had options and was worth more. Now that the pair had broken up, he knew he had been following after the brunette detective like a lost puppy. But that wasn't Cal's did have a point about the team, and he knew she knew first hand how difficult it could be to work with someone you were in love with.

"Even if you are trying to put a target on my back?" he finally joked.

"Fake target, Halstead. Speaking of which, Dominic told me he might have a solution to my problems, and I don't think he is going to give me the number of a divorce attorney. We're supposed to meet for drinks after this event." Cally hoped she had laid enough breadcrumbs for Dominic and Petra to follow, because two weeks in and she was missing Jeff more than she cared to admit.

It didn't help that they had traded voice mails and that he picked up an extra shift over at 51 since he had managed to get ahead on his coursework. At least on the Krok case she still got to curl up next to him for a few hours, instead of tossing and turning alone in a ridiculously oversized King bed that cost more than a car. She wondered what he was up to and if she had time to try to call him, when her phone started to ring with Voight calling to remind her that Perry expected quick solutions to complex cases.

"Come on, Clarke, it is perfect!" Shay pleaded, scrolling through the images on her iPad.

Clarke closed his eyes and shook his head. Somehow in even hinting that he and Cally weren't against the idea of trying the knot over the holidays, he had created a bridezilla…out of his lesbian friend. "It is something, Shay, and that something is expensive."

"Maybe they'll cut us a break since you two are keeping the city safe and stuff," she shot back, looking slightly dejected.

"I am not picking out a place to have a reception without Cailin," he protested, firmly, taking a long drink of beer. Cally was right, they needed to get Shay a girlfriend. He looked around for someone to back him up, but everyone else was focused on something else.

"Fine, but you're no fun," Shay replied, pouting.

He smiled, placing a couple of bills on the bar, "extra no fun, because I'm heading out." The good thing about Cally being on back-to-back undercover assignments was that he was getting an exorbitant amount of studying done, even if it was getting harder to hide his med school life from his CFD life.

Shay rolled her eyes but went back to her iPad. "I'm gonna keep looking though," she called after him.

"No, I understand completely, and that is a small price to pay and I would much rather pay you than let that leech get one more dime of my family's money. But you're sure it will look like an accident?" Cally said, after Dominic had finally taken the bait. She prayed the comms were working as well as Mouse had promised, considering they were in Dominic's car, parked under an overpass in a less than desirable part of town. Jay seemed to trust his former Army buddy wholeheartedly, and she hoped that was enough.

"Just get me the money and the only thing you need to worry about is what to wear to his funeral," Dominic replied with a smile.

"Then Leo, you have a deal. Now how about we go get a drink to celebrate me being one step closer to being a free woman?" Cally suggested with a laugh.

She quickly escaped to the ladies room as soon as they arrived at the upscale nightclub Dominic brought them to. As soon as the door shut behind her, she let out a heavy sigh before saying, "tell me you got that."

"We did," came Voight's voice over the comm, "and you may have been a little too good, I might need to let Clarke know."

Cally rolled her eyes, "very funny, Voight, now just get me the cash so we can get this job done and get home."

Voight chuckled, "what, you aren't enjoying married life?"

"Not to freaking Halstead!"

"Hey!" Jay's voice joined in.

"Damn Mouse," she grumbled.

"Just doing my job, Callahan," the tech genius retorted.

"I really do need that drink now," she said, glaring at the bathroom attendant who thought she was talking to herself.


	8. Fire on High

**Chapter 24: Fire on High**

"So I take it you missed me," Clarke teased from the floor of the living room, which was as far as they made it since Cally had pounced on him the second she walked in the door, sending flashcards flying everywhere.

"Now whatever gave you that idea?" she countered, looking around for her shirt.

He retrieved it from underneath the couch, handing it to her with a smirk, "you aren't that good a bluffer, Callahan. I take it you got your guy."

"Oh I got my-" she started in, stopping as he gave her a look, "yes, hook, line and sinker. The Outfit is going to have to put out a classified for two new hired guns. And those two, they turned on each other quicker than alley cats. Voight just had to walk Petra past the cages and she went full canary."

"Good to hear," he said, pulling his jeans back on, glad the blinds were closed. "So you and Halstead divorced yet?"

"Very funny, Jeff. Though I did almost get taken off his Christmas card list when I called him out on acting like a love struck teenager around Erin."

"I'm sure that went over well," Clarke said, thinking about what Shay had filled him in on regarding Severide's deteriorating behavior.

Cally made a face, "like a ton of bricks, but somebody needed to do it. I don't want to meddle, but if I have to keep working with them both, I need to know Halstead has his head in the game. But enough about work, I need food. I am starving, I have never seen so much elf food in my life than at all those stupid charity events and the waiters practically run past you, I guess they figure most women are just going to wave them away… I would shoot a family member for a burger right about now."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh, "let's get you fed then, I don't think the crime rate needs to increase in the city. You mind getting take-out and bringing it to Molly's? There's a certain paramedic tending bar tonight that has already talked my ear off this past week." He shuddered, looking slightly sheepish.

"Are you afraid of Leslie Shay, jarhead?" Cally teased.

"Just you wait, Callahan," he said with raised eyebrows.

* * *

"You weren't freaking kidding," Cally muttered under her breath as Shay excitedly ran through all her ideas, carefully arranged on Pinterest.

"Told you so," Clarke replied, shaking his head, catching sight of Severide, Mills, Mouch and Cruz watching a Blackhawks game at the other end of the bar.

Cally mock scowled at him, "sure, abandon me, cowboy!" she called after him.

"Ain't your first rodeo, Cal," he shot back.

"It sort of is," she grumbled, taking a long drink of beer before turning her attention back to Shay. Finally she couldn't nod along absently anymore. She was going to have to try and let her down easy; though she was pretty sure no matter what she did, Shay's heart was going to get crushed, or at least her spirits. And then she was going to have to face those big baby-blues looking at her like Bambi after his mom died. God, no wonder Severide was wrapped around her finger. "Shay," she said a couple of times, trying to stop the freight train. "Leslie Shay!" she finally said, yanking her friend's arm away from the iPad.

"Okay, fine, maybe we can ditch the live butterflies, I've heard that can end up kind of iffy anyway," Shay said, deleting the pin.

Cally rubbed at her temples, "sweetie, we both love you, you know that right?"

Shay nodded, looking slightly uneasy. She set the iPad down with a sigh, eyeing the bottle of tequila in front of her. "Am I going to need this?" she asked, quietly.

"Probably," Cally admitted, taking a deep breath.

"You aren't calling off the wedding, right?" she asked, looking slightly misty.

Cally shook her head, "no, of course not. We are still getting married, whenever Holy Family can fit us in when we are all free. Hopefully sooner than later. But…" she trailed off, gesturing for Shay to hand her the bottle. "Recall, this is the second go round for both of us, and we aren't really into big, loud events. Not to mention we are on a pretty tight budget. So while all your ideas are as gorgeous and fabulous as you are, we were thinking of something a little more…low key."

"Low key, huh?" Shay asked, adding another slug of liquid to her glass.

"You have actually spent time with Clarke, right?" Cailin said, tapping the screen and bringing up one of the spectacles Shay had bookmarked.

Shay looked down at it before looking down the bar where Clarke had a slight smirk of a smile on his face while the rest of the guys were guffawing and smacking each other on the back over who only knew what. She took a deep breath, looking back down at the screen. "Gotcha. I can do low-key." She paused, flipping through a couple of boards before finally flipping the cover closed, "oh, god, I think I turned into Gabby's mother."

"Only temporarily. Speaking of which, how are Gabby and Matt doing, really? Because Matt is being weird and Gabby is always too exhausted when I actually get the chance to talk to her."

"Your boy is kicking her butt, but she is loving every minute of it. Between you and me, I wasn't sure she was really going to go through with this whole Candidate thing, especially when it looked like she was going to be under the jerk Welch over at Austin. Especially since she was talking Med School not that long ago…" Shay trailed off, making a pattern in the condensation on the bar in front of her, "but things change, and she's happy, so whatever, right?"

"Uh-huh," Cally said, arching an eyebrow at her friend, feeling like there was more to it, also feeling the weight of Jeff's Med School secret.

"God you are as bad a Clarke, I just baited that hook for you, girl!"

"I don't fish, Leslie," Cally countered. She took in Shay's pout, rolled her eyes and said, "fine, I'll play along. Is she really happy though, Shay?"

Shay smiled and clapped her hands, "oh goody!" She cleared her throat before turning serious again, "I know Matt is your oldest and dearest friend, and he is a great guy, he really is, I've known him for a while now too. Though I sometimes wonder if he is really the perfect person for Gabby. Matt is such a picket-fence, house in the suburbs, marry the soccer mom type. He and Hallie used to argue over that all the time. And I know Gabs comes from a big family and I know she seems really happy with him and he treats her well. Anyway, I've known Gabby for as long as I have known Matt, and have spent a hell of a lot of a time in the ambo with her and whenever she talked about her future, it wasn't any of that Leave it to Beaver stuff, you know. But as I said, things change. Not to mention she's dumped me for the new paramedic on 56."

"That is a pretty perfect description of Matt," Cally replied, chewing on the inside of her lip, thinking Shay seemed to have both Gabby and Matt pegged. There was a bit of an incongruence; but there also was a strong connection between the two of them. And the last thing she was about to do was butt-in on their relationship. Both parties hadn't said a word when she was carrying on with the technically still married Jeff, in fact they had been steadfast in their support. Shay's last statement suddenly sunk in. "Wait, what do you mean Gabby dumped you? What new paramedic?"

"Some piece of fluff, transferred in from St. Louis because of guy problems," she said, rolling her eyes, "Something Brett, Sophie? Sally? Sylvie, that's it," Shay said, snapping her fingers, "I dunno, apparently she and Gabs bonded, being the only women in the house, and Gabby was happy to not have to deal with Chout anymore. Clarke didn't tell you about her?"

"Voight just released me like an hour before we got here and Jeff and I didn't really do a lot of, uh, talking," Cally admitted, her cheeks turning pink as she looked down the bar involuntarily and caught Clarke's eye. He gave her a wink and raised his pint towards her before turning back to his friends.

Shay put up her hand for a high-five, "get it girl! Just spare me the details, because there are some things I just don't want to know about you heteros."

* * *

"That was Sergeant Platt, Detective Callahan, and she said 'to tell Detective Barbie to get down there because she isn't sending Ken up', that was the direct quote," Nadia said, hanging up the phone, looking slightly bemused.

Cailin looked up from her paperwork, furrowing her brow. "Good to know dating Mouch has mellowed her," she retorted, locking her computer. "Be right back, I hope," she called to her teammates before booking it down the stairs.

Clarke was waiting on the bench across from Platt's desk, looking as uneasy as he always did when he found himself at the 21st Precinct. Cally didn't blame him, given his experiences there. He would probably never be President of Voight's fan club, but that didn't matter so much to her; she still wasn't always entirely sure how she felt about her Sergeant. "Hey, everything alright, why aren't you at school?" she asked, sliding next to him.

Clarke nodded, "got a break between class and practice. Don't suppose you can take a break, huh?"

She mirrored his nod, "sure thing. Sergeant Platt, I'm taking a 7 be back in a few."

"Not your secretary, sweet cheeks, tell Jezebel upstairs."

"I'll bring you back a slice of pie from the diner," Cally said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Cherry, not apple, they changed their filling," Platt called after them.

"Sorry to bug you at work," Clarke said after they slid into a booth in the rear of the diner.

"Never a bug, babe, a treat. At least I think it is," Cally remarked, drumming her fingers nervously on the Formica.

Clarke gently put his hand on top of hers to stop the tapping, keeping it there even as Dottie came over, doing a double take when she saw them. "Been a while since I've seen the two of you in here. Actually, haven't really seen much of you, Detective, they finally get you a desk over there in the precinct?"

"I, uh, moved units," Cally said, not wanting to explain everything that had gone on in the past six months. Dottie had a look of realization come over her, "oh, yeah, the shooting. Glad to see you're still on the job, and still with this one."

"Me too," she replied, squirming slightly.

"Want your old usual?" Dottie inquired. Cally nodded. "And you handsome?"

"Same as her, half a ruben, with fries," he stressed, giving the waitress a look.

"Don't let him go, Detective, or I'll steal him for myself," Dottie replied, stopping short of patting Clarke on the cheek only when the pair both let out a soft snarl. "I'll get that right out," she said, rushing off.

They both nervously tittered at each other, Cally quipping, "good to know we've worked through our issues."

"Work in progress," Clarke shrugged, finally removing his hand from on top of hers, wrapping his hands around his glass of water. "So they finally put out the rotations for the next couple of months and I got my exam schedule."

"Ah yes, the great holiday rotation bitch fest, where the entire force complains about having to work Thanksgiving or Christmas, but secretly love the double pay and not having to be around their families, I am quite familiar, go on…" she said, having lived this her entire life. Though in New York, she volunteered to work holidays. She hadn't really thought about how Voight would handle things though she probably should talk to him about it. Not to mention holidays in the future might actually start meaning something once kids were involved…

"...so the church is free, but we have to come up with our own priest to handle all the loop holes," Clarke finished, looking at Cally expectantly.

"Come again?" Cally squeaked out, realized she had just missed something major. Some detective she was.

"You, me, a church, hopefully your priest brother, us getting married," he said, gesturing between them, realizing her intense look of concentration hadn't been on him. "I'm on as relief for Christmas Day, but Holy Family is free the 26th. If you're still on board, that is."

She blinked a few times, the weight of what he was telling her sinking in. "Jeff Clarke, are you telling me we have a wedding date?"

"If you can convince your brother to deal with the Archdiocese."

"Cullen, not a problem. He's got one foot out the door and loves making waves," Cally replied, already pulling out her phone and texting him.

"Just as long as he keeps his one foot in until December 27th," Clarke teased with a smile as Dottie carefully set down their two plates and hustled away.

* * *

**Chapter 25: This Fire**

"Wait, so you set a date?" Erin asked as they huffed their way through a session at the gym.

"More like Clarke set the date," Cally replied, increasing the speed on her treadmill, regretting that ruben with a side of fries already since she apparently was going to need to find a wedding dress like yesterday. A spark of an idea shot through her. "So your friend, Valentina, don't suppose she can whip me up something ivory and under five figures in less than ten weeks, huh?"

"She could probably clothe a country in ten weeks, don't know about the price tag though, can't say I've actually paid," Erin said with a dimpled grin.

Cailin glowered slightly, "I am glad we are friends, because otherwise I might hate you a little right now."

"I'm sure I can get you a friends and family discount, seeing as it is your wedding dress and all." Erin paused for a moment. "Holy shit, Callahan, you are getting married!"

Her excitement was almost infectious, except it made Cally slightly uncomfortable. She fiddled with the buttons on her elliptical, "I mean, yeah, but it's no big deal, we've both been-"

"Stop, don't say it, Cal," Erin shot back, rolling her eyes.

Cailin caught the look in her friend's eyes, knowing better than to push it. She decided instead to change the subject. "So, is Voight seeing someone?"

Erin almost slipped off her treadmill. "Why do you ask?" she covered.

She shrugged, "I don't know, he's just seemed different lately, almost nice."

"Okay, I'll give you that," Erin said, an inkling planted in her mind, thinking she needed to have a little catch" up with Hank.

Cailin's phone started to buzz and flash wildly she immediately stabbed at reject. "I am busy, mother," she muttered.

"She a little excited?"

"Children on Christmas morning are less excited. But I worry if I give her an inch, she'll turn into Mama Dawson, and I cannot handle that. Breaking Shay's heart and telling her to slow her roll was enough."

Erin laughed, but it felt hollow. Her relationship with her mother was, well practically nonexistent, had been for years, and that suited her just fine most of the time.

Cally saw the gloom pass over Erin's eyes and immediately wanted to kick herself. She felt like a brat, complaining about her mother when she knew Erin's background. She punched the stop button. "Okay, I'm a bitch. How about we ditch the workout and go drink wine instead? Valentina can always make me something stretchy, right?"

Erin feigned debating before stopping her own machine. "Yes, on the last two accounts, not on the first, except when needed."

* * *

"Hermann, what is so important that I needed to leave a meeting with a CI to come to Molly's and-oh God," Cally cut off, skidding to a stop as soon as she entered the bar. "Uh, hi Ma, what are you doing up here? In the city. At Molly's. On a weekday afternoon?" she asked, looking at Hermann with panic. The man just shrugged, turning to take stock of the beer fridge.

"Oh hello dear. I couldn't get in touch with you and that sweet girl who answers the phones at your work mentioned that all of you and your work friends come here a lot since some firefighters own it and I was up in the city for an appointment so I thought I would just pop on in. Christopher was just telling me all about his children and his lovely wife. Care to tell me why I had to find out you set a wedding date from the Archbishop's secretary after your brother had an appointment with him?"

Cally tried to process what her mother was saying and failed, giving Hermann enough of a look that he immediately poured her a drink. "Just water, Hermann."

"Set a wedding date already, drinking water? Something you and Ugly want to tell us, Callahan?" She hitched her thumb toward where Ruzek was hovering in the doorway, "yeah, I'm still on the clock. Adam, go watch TV and don't you dare say a word about any of this."

"Take a load off and watch sports? Yeah, I'm really going to bust your-" he broke off as both Hermann and Cally loudly cleared their throats, gesturing toward Mrs. Callahan. "Sorry, ma'am. I'll just be over here."

Cally slid on a stool next to her mother and tried to ignore the pounding starting in her head. She loved her mother, dearly, but it seemed the older she got, the more attention her mother wanted to give her; as if making up for being too busy and tired when Cailin was growing up. The problem was, Cailin had already learned to take care of herself and wasn't the best at letting others in. Which is probably why she and Jeff fit so well. "It just kind of happened, Ma, I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I promise. Our friend had this crazy idea and Jeff just kind of ran with it and we needed some details worked out with the Church, so I asked Cully."

Her mother stared at her, eyebrow arched in a way that Hermann recognized from Cally's own face. He worked to hide a smirk. After the Chief's nuptials, he wanted nothing to do with any weddings until his own kids were getting married. And maybe not even then.

"Cailin Marie, I know you think you can handle everything on your own, a fact you've proved time and time again throughout the years, and I know you went away to New York and stayed so our crazy clan wouldn't be in your business; but you are still a part of this family!" Mary Margaret admonished.

Cailin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They meant well, they always meant well. "I know Ma and I love you all, dearly." The 'but' hung heavy enough in the air she was sure customers later that night would feel it.

"But this isn't about us, it's about you and your Marine," Mary Margaret said, seeing her daughter's brow knit together, she quickly corrected, "Jeff." Just as quickly she saw the look of surprise on her youngest's face. "I've married 3 sons, and a 4th has presided over countless more, I've heard all about the wedding being for the family. Your father and mine's was to be sure, but it is the start of your marriage, which is most certainly not about what your old mother thinks." She gave her daughter a conspiratorial look before continuing, "you didn't think I was going to say that, did you? Don't forget I bore and raised you, girl. Just make sure I get an invite to the big day and come down to dinner at your brother's every once in a while."

Cailin wasn't entirely sure how to respond, she sat, dumbfounded for a minute, feeling herself get slightly teary as her mother gingerly slipped off the barstool and gave her a hug.

"I love you, baby girl, you know that, right?"

Cailin nodded, sniffing into her mother's shoulder, "of course, Ma, love you too."

"Good. I'll let you get back to keeping the city safe. Take care of yourself," she paused, brushing her daughter's hair back behind her shoulders, studying her carefully, thankful for the light that had finally started to creep back into her eyes. "But more importantly, let that man of yours take care of you too. It isn't weakness to be loved, Cailin."

* * *

"Well wasn't that a Hallmark moment," Ruzek started in as soon as they were back in the car.

"Bite me, Ruzek, one more word and I will tell Voight all about that romantic getaway you are planning on taking Kim on weekend after next."

"You wouldn't dare," he shot back, looking wounded.

Cailin leveled a glare at him, "you really wanna risk it, Adam?"

"What the hell is that, Callahan, I told you I didn't want to see any damn bridal magazines up here," Voight admonished the next day in the pen.

Cailin looked at him, completely confused, she had been deep in a suspect's file, trying to piece together any known associates. "Do you need your eyes checked, Voight? These are case files; I haven't bought a damn bridal magazine. In case you've forgotten, I was undercover and then I was running down this-" she broke off as Voight held the thick, glossy magazine between two fingers as though it were trash.

"Damn it, Ruzek," she said, lunging next to her and swatting at him.

"Ow, ow, stop, Jesus! Voight, you really should let her down in the cages more," he replied, rubbing at his chest. "I was just having a little fun."

"Fun's over. Feel free to chuck it, sir."

"No way, he made me buy that thing," Atwater protested, "do you know how expensive those things are?"

"That's because if you tack the word 'wedding' on anything it immediately becomes expensive," Cally grumbled, getting nods of agreement from Dawson and Voight. "Now don't we all have work to be doing?"

"I think you're spending too much time with Erin, cupcake, you're starting to sound more and more like her every day," Voight said, with a chuckle; though the look on his face still told Cailin he was wary of having two women on his team.

She knew they wouldn't be partnered up anytime soon, no matter what was or wasn't going on with Halstead. They all went back to it until a while later Atwater spoke up, "hey, this isn't actually that bad."

"What you find a skel with a rap sheet shorter than Callahan?" Antonio teased.

"For the umpteenth time I am 5'5" which is average for women, Erin isn't that much taller than I am!" Cailin protested. It was then she noticed that Atwater had taken possession of the bridal magazine and was staring intently at a page.

"Nah, I'm talking about this dress, it ain't too poufy, it's actually pretty hot," he said.

Ruzek peered over his shoulder; "I dunno looks kind of trashy to me."

"Nobody asked you," Atwater argued, "I'm just saying, most of these dresses make me think the opposite of what you are supposed to be doing on your wedding night." He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis. "I bet you Dawson will agree with me. What do you think 'Tonio?" He held up the magazine so Antonio could see.

"Eh, it's okay, but not really for a wedding," Antonio replied.

Cailin forced herself to not roll her eyes, worried they might stick. She was about to say something when Voight snapped, "are we working or opening a wedding planning business?" He glared at Cailin, as if to say 'look what you did here?'

She put her hands up in the air, "hey, me and Halstead haven't said a damn thing."

"Well, I'm all out of gold stars. Now get back at it, all of you and hopefully Lindsey and Olinsky will be back with something soon."

* * *

**Chapter 26: Wildfire**

"Forget this, I need a drink, who's up for Molly's?" Antonio asked after Erin and Alvin turned up nothing.

"Me times a thousand," Cailin replied, frustrated at the lack of progress on their current case, still slightly confused from her mother's visit to the city the day before and not ready to go home to an empty place since Clarke was burning the midnight oil at the library.

"Anyone else?" he asked, looking around. "Come on, I know none of you have anything better to do."

Cailin snickered, but she couldn't help but hear Antonio's loneliness. She knew he was also trying to avoid going home to an empty house, Laura having made her usual weekend trek up to her sister's in Clear Lake. For not the first time, she felt that tinge of worry. She desperately wanted her and Jeff to be a forever thing; but knowing she could end up a widow again or the failure rates of marriages of cops and firefighters. She assumed it wasn't much better for doctors. Though really, didn't the both of them deserve a break? Not to mention it just felt right, down to her soul.

"The whole gang, huh?" she said, realizing that everyone was coming along for at least a drink, even Nadia, though she did seem to be instantly regretting her agreement as they all clamored down the stairs.

It was weird to be at Molly's without the regular gang there; while it looked the same, it felt different. At least Otis was behind the bar, because here he was definitely Otis. There were a lot of neighborhood regulars perched underneath the TVs, watching college football and flirting with the waitresses that worked when the others were on shift. The IU team bellied up to the bar, though there was jockeying for stools as Jay and Cally both moved to sit next to Erin at the same time. Cally rolled her eyes, "no, by all means, Jay, please, sit." She noticed Hank on the other side of Erin rolling his own eyes, giving his head a slight shake. She thought about checking in on Nadia, but it seemed Adam and Kevin had already embroiled her in a game of quarters and she was holding her own. She moved down to the empty seat between Antonio and Alvin, both gripping it to move it out for her at the same time. She let out a small laugh, "glad chivalry is not dead."

"What you drinking, kid?" Alvin asked.

Cailin stiffened and swallowed, still struck by being called kid. "Whiskey, one cube," she spluttered out, clearing her throat several times.

Antonio looked at her, seeing a look cloud her eyes that he hadn't really seen in a while. "You okay?" he asked, studying her.

She nodded, "I'm fine." She stopped, taking a deep breath; they were a team, no, a family, and they both had seen ungodly amounts of things and had their own demons, so why not be honest?

"Sometimes there are still triggers, they just come out of nowhere, you know? Like I'll be fine, it doesn't bug me, but then, WHAM. 'Kid' just got me. It's what Doyle called me," she admitted, reaching greedily for the drink Otis put in front of her, using all her restraint to not down it.

Both men nodded, having seen her file, having heard what Mykolo admitted, piecing together a lot of the rest from working with Cailin.

"Trauma is a bitch," Alvin said his eyes wise and slightly sad, "but life is too, sometimes." He looked at the younger detectives next to him, thinking about his own recent reconciliation, or whatever it was with his wife. "But it isn't always. Life can also give you some amazing second chances, if you are patient enough for them."

Antonio and Cally let out a huff of air in unison, causing the trio to laugh. "Laura decide anything yet?" Cailin asked gently after waving to Otis for another round.

Antonio chewed on his drink stirrer, "not really and in some ways that is worse. The kids feel unsettled, they want to do things here on the weekends, I am afraid to open my mouth during the week in my own damn house and you could say I am not the best at not having a game plan. I don't want to push either, because what if I push her away?" He shook his head, reaching for his fresh drink, "but enough about that, as Alvin said, life can give you some amazing second chances, and I am happy you are getting yours Cal, to you and Clarke," he said, raising his glass.

"Agreed," Cally replied, clinking her glass against his.

"Just don't ever make him live in the garage," Alvin retorted, joining in.

Cally smiled, her glass meeting his, "I won't and that isn't just because we don't have a garage."

"So are you not into this wedding planning thing because of what happened with Doyle?" Alvin asked right as she took a drink.

She was so shocked at his question, or more that he was the one asking it, that she sprayed whiskey out of her nose. "Damn, Olinsky, that was good whiskey!" She mopped herself off, looking around to make sure nobody else had seen when she realized Hank was busy with a phone conversation, Kim had appeared and was keeping Adam occupied, Kevin was glaring at some bros trying to paw at Nadia and Jay and Erin seemed to be having an intense conversation. Alvin just raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer, Antonio doing the same on the other side of her.

"So I can't escape this one, can I?" she yelped. "Not entirely. I can't ignore the fact that we both have dangerous jobs, just like I can't ignore the fact that we've both been married before. But I am really not into this wedding planning because I feel like I am really bad at it. I grew up with five older brothers and then became a cop; I think my girly chip is broken. I look at those magazines or Gabby's binder or Shay's boards and everything just looks kinds of the same and none of it looks like us. And it isn't like I can conjure something that does seem like us in nine weeks."

"Wait, did you say nine weeks? As in you set a date and are getting married in nine weeks?" Antonio asked, loudly, "well damn, Callahan! Erin, did you know about this?"

Erin turned after giving Jay one last glare saying, "of course I knew about it, 'Tonio. The bigger question is, what are we going to do to help Cally actually get this done?"

Antonio shook his head, but actually felt excitement for his fellow detective, "I don't know, but I am pretty sure it calls for a team meeting, back table, now! Otis, bring us a couple of pitchers, we got to knock this out!"

Clarke arrived home just before dawn, having pulled an all-nighter studying and writing papers. He followed the trail of clothing from the front door to the bedroom, finding Cailin passed out, covers flung every which way.

"Stop staring at me and make some coffee, Jeff," she croaked out, not even opening her eyes as she flipped over to her stomach and pulled a pillow over her head.

"You better be glad it was me, babe, you left the door unlocked last night," he said, moving the pillow just enough to kiss the top of her head.

"This morning," she corrected, finally opening one eye and immediately regretting it. After the team meeting, which Hank bowed out on after receiving a call from a female Cally heard him call 'Jess', they ended up doing team shots and singing karaoke. Shortly after, Alvin and Kevin took off with Antonio and Jay following around last call. Otis finally begged the remaining group to leave around 3, ignoring their plaintive cries that they were the cops.

It was then Erin got the wild hare to call Valentina, who left the underground club she was at in order to open up her shop for an impromptu game of drunken dress-up. Cally, Erin, Kim and Nadia left a pouting Adam on the sidewalk as they piled in a cab to head across town.

After whiskey, beer and shots, the ever-present champagne at Valentina's wasn't the best idea for any of them, but damn if they didn't have fun.

* * *

Cailin vaguely remembered being draped and wrapped in a million different fabrics and Valentina furiously sketching away at her design-desk. She also had a fuzzy image of Kim and Nadia standing in for Leslie and Gabby while Erin drank straight from the bottle of champagne and remarked that for once a bridesmaid dress would actually be worn again.

"So I take it you had fun last night?" Clarke called on his way to the kitchen. "Too much," she hollered back, instantly regretting the volume, as well as raising her head.

Clarke returned a couple of minutes later, water, Advil and ginger ale in hand. "You look like you could use this," he said, setting it on the nightstand.

"Bless you, Jeff Clarke, if we weren't already getting married, I'd propose," she said, downing the pills and water.

"I thought you didn't get drunk, Callahan," he replied, moving the covers aside so he could sit next to her.

"Yeah, well, I broke my own rule of not sticking to just one kind of liquor. I started with whiskey, but then there were several pitchers of beer while we were having the team wedding planning meeting and then someone had the brilliant idea that we should each do a round of everyone's favorite shot, and of course no two people had the same favorite shot and then there was the champagne while sort of wedding dress shopping at Valentina's. God, no wonder my liver hurts," she made a face, reaching for the ginger ale. "How was your paper writing?"

"Much less exciting than your night," Clarke smirked at her, knowing this was uncharacteristic of her, but also thinking it was good for her to get out with her work crew, though probably not quite to that extent. "I'm glad you had a good time. Wonder how everyone else is doing."

"They guys are probably doing better than the girls, they wisely went home," she groaned, "and Voight disappeared first, so he's probably going to call us all in at any second. Unless…" she trailed off. Clarke just raised his eyebrows in an unasked question. "He disappeared after getting a call from what sounded like a female, I think he even cracked a smile. Erin and I were wondering if he wasn't seeing someone, he's actually been almost pleasant. So hopefully he is occupied and won't bug us-"

As if on cue, her phone started to buzz. She put the pillow over her face and let out a scream. "Damn it, I should have known better than to open my mouth," she said, picking up the phone. "Callahan. Yeah. No. Yes. We did. Fine, I'll be there." She hung up, rubbing at her head. "I know I did this to myself, but this is going to be a long shift. I gotta shower. You going to be around later?"

"Yep, after class, because I want to hear all about how cops planned our wedding," Clarke said, shaking his head with a smile.

"At least they didn't suggest releasing hundreds of hopefully live animals," she retorted, already walking towards the shower.

Clarke followed her figure with his eyes, thinking the clothing trail was worth nearly tripping over.

"If you are going to keep staring, you may as well join me, cowboy, Voight can wait," she called without turning around.


	9. Fire and Smoke

**Chapter 27: Fire and Smoke**

The case IU was working had them running down a couple of knucklehead suspects dealing in fake handbags and real prescriptions all the way to Detroit, where they barely caught them before they crossed into Canada. While it also led them to a few other unsavory characters, it meant that Cally didn't get the chance to catch up with Clarke later, as he was on shift before she even got the chance to stop by the condo again. And even then it was only to grab some clean clothes and a quick shower before heading out with Antonio to set up a fake buy of Oxy in bulk.

She sent Clarke one more text before heading out to the meeting spot, hoping to share more than a shower with her fiancée sometime soon.

Clarke gave a smile at the text from Cally, hoping he was going to actually get the chance to see her when this shift was over, and for more than a few minutes in the shower. While he enjoyed that time, he knew how easy it was to get disconnected when you were separated, even if just by work schedules and not an ocean.

"I know that smile, tell Cally hi," Gabby said, finishing rolling the hoses, "I really need to catch up with her." Clarke looked at his candidate, happy the storm clouds from her eyes seemed to have lifted. "Yeah, you two should. You can commiserate about useless grooms-to-be."

Gabby laughed, "That is in no way the case for either of you, I am sure. Matt and I should really have you over for dinner, show you the new place and take advantage of the patio before it is covered in snow."

Clarke cleared his throat as Jones and Johnson walked by. Knowing that none of 102 fraternized outside of work, other than Department sanctioned events. He had heard more than one bit of grumbling about how the Lieutenant and the Candidate seemed close. At least Jones had spoken up when one of the guys from the engine tried implying they were a little _too_ close. "Sounds great, Candidate, now how about you run some tool drills with Johnson here, I've got some paperwork to catch up on.

Hours later, after the paperwork and drills were completed and too much sitting around, a call finally came in. They pulled up to the scene, a wood-framed flophouse already engulfed in smoke when they arrived, the derelict block not interested in calling attention to their illegal activities. While this neighborhood was rapidly gentrifying, it still had its pockets, and this was definitely one of them.

"A want a fast sweep, make sure everyone is out of there. We're going to need water on this quick. 102, try to find some hydrants that haven't been vandalized, 25 make a sweep and make it quick. Ambo 56, stand-by and keep a close eye on the rig before someone tries to walk away with any of our supplies," Captain Davis barked out.

"Jones, Johnson, take 4 and 3, move quick and if it gets too harried, pull the hell back," Clarke ordered, "Dawson and I will take 2 and 1 and whoever is done first will see if there is basement access. Candidate, stick to my side and low and go, you hear me?" he said, knocking his knuckles on her helmet before pulling his gloves on.

She nodded, adjusting her facemask and preparing for what lay ahead. She missed 51, not just because of having been there so long, but also because it was a much busier house. She knew she shouldn't wish for more fires, but she didn't bust her ass through everything with the academy to sit on it up in Rogers Park every shift. "Got it, Loo, let's do this."

The fire was much more pronounced upon entering, smoke having completely filled the structure. It was hard to tell the point of origin as Jones and Johnson literally disappeared upstairs, a smoke screen seeming to swallow them.

"We're going to need to water soon, Cap, and maybe another alarm," Clarke barked, surveying the scene as Dawson started busting open doors yelling, "Fire Department, call out!"

They had cleared the second floor when the order came over the radio. "Truck 25, retreat," Davis barked, the flames overtaking the structure at a rapid rate, the ancient dry wood an instant fuel source; the angry fire quickly climbing out of control.

Clarke looked up the stairwell, counting off the precious seconds until he saw Jones and Johnson appear, a coughing elderly man between them. "Get him out now. How far did you get?"

"Think we got everyone. Old guy says landlord has kicked most people out, wants to sell the building," Johnson replied as Jones went on ahead with the man.

Clarke nodded, turning around, not seeing Dawson, the smoke making it impossible to make out anything. Captain Davis repeated the call to retreat.

"Candidate, we have to go," Clarke barked, finally catching sight of Dawson.

"No, wait, I heard something," Gabby argued, moving further into the interior, further away from him even as Johnson and the engine guys moved in the opposite direction.

"Help us!" they both heard from below. The small studio apartment hadn't been visible or accessible form the front stairwell, only seen know because of the gaping hole in the floor of one of the units.

"Ma'am, hold on," Gabby said, "I need you to get low. You said 'us', who is with you?"

"My baby, you have to save my baby!"

Gabby and Jeff locked eyes through their masks; both wanting to make the save, even as the fire raged around them and their Captain's orders grew increasingly incessant over the radio.

"We can pull them up; I know we can, Clarke!" Gabby pleaded.

Clarke looked around, listening to the building, knowing it was already fully engulfed and that their Captain had made the right call. They shouldn't be in there; the fire needed fighting from the outside. "One try, Candidate and then we retreat," he said, Gabby immediately unfurling the harness.

Clarke looked around for something solid to attach it to, spying an ancient gas stove in the apartment they were in. He hooked it around the leg, gesturing for Gabby to start lowering it.

"Ma'am, we're lowering a harness down, I need you to step through it so we can pull you up."

The woman was too hysterical to understand. She was young, still probably in her teens, and most likely high as a kite, given the flophouse status of the building. "My baby, my baby," she just kept chanting, shielding her infant from the flames.

Gabby lowered the harness down, the top half of her torso leaning into the studio below, trying to assess the situation and calm the woman down. "We're going to get you out of here, I promise."

Clarke sense the fire as much as he saw it, sucking back, preparing its next strike as the rest of 102 vented the building, following protocol, but unfortunately feeding the beast.

In one instant the flames drew back, giving Gabby false hope as she threw the harness down, dangling over the edge with it.

And then the strike, the flames rushing over them like a waterfall of fire, desperately seeking out the oxygen to fuel itself. Clarke instinctively crouched down, making himself small, letting the wave of fire wash over him. Until he saw Gabby, caught off guard, instinctively wearing her paramedic hat instead of her firefighter helmet. She pitched forward, over the side of the hole in the floor, clutching desperately at the harness line with one hand, still reaching toward the woman and her infant with the other.

Reflexively, Clarke reached out and caught her own arm as it clawed at the wood floor, his palm encircling her wrist, trying to wrench her back up, but she fought him, bucking, trying to reach the victims.

"I almost have them…" she yelped, reaching.

Clarke felt his shoulder straining and giving out. He reached down with his other hand, yanking on her bunker jacket, leveraging his last bit of strength to pull her back up to the same floor as him, the flames dancing around them, glowing, dancing, and mocking.

"No, no, I can get them, Clarke!" Gabby pleaded, thinking of how her hand had brushed the woman's shoulders.

"Stand down, Candidate!" Clarke ordered, seeing the look of desperation in her eyes, "we are retreating, now!"

"But I promised!" Gabby pleaded, rushing back to the edge.

"I said, stand down!" Clarke called again, forcibly grabbing her arm and holding it as the building groaned, showing her toward the door and the stairwell.

They attempted to climb up, toward the ladder outside the third story, but the stairwell was completely engulfed. They headed down instead; the temperatures so high, it felt like their face masks were melting. Clarke knew they were racing against time, a building this fully involved, this old, was likely to collapse at any minute. He could hear the groaning, feel the shifting, the old girl didn't have much left in her. Luckily he knew the exit was only one flight more down, except, "Damn it, Dawson," he screamed, as Gabby made a quick turn and bolted right toward the side stair and the studio.

She stepped in, seeing the young woman, still hysterical, still curled around her child. She rushed toward them, ripping off her helmet and clamping her mask over the woman's face, ordering her to breathe deeply, ignoring the smoke the rapidly entered her lungs, the heat overtaking her in seconds. The woman fought her, so wrought she was with panic; unable to see what was happening or who was touching her.

Clarke was about to cross the threshold when the entire building seemed to shudder, as if throwing its hands up in defeat. The ground seemed to crumble beneath them, what once was solid turning to air.

Once again, Clarke fisted Gabby's bunker jacket, drawing her back, his right shoulder already screaming in pain as it was once again stretched beyond its max. He felt the pop, knew the tendons were giving away as easily as the floor beneath them was. They tumbled back out into the stairwell, as the studio collapsed into the basement. He dragged Gabby down what was left of the staircase, only realizing once they emerged outside that she was not wearing her mask and was not responsive.

"Come on, Dawson," he said, slapping gently at her face, "don't do this to me." He looked up and around wildly, "Brett, Chout, get over here NOW! Dawson is down."

**Chapter 28: Crossfire**

"Detective Callahan, this is Sylvie Brett, from Ambulance 56 at the 102," came a hesitant voice over her cell phone.

Cally's heart stopped, there was no way this could be good. She froze in font of Antonio's desk, where they were burning the midnight oil finishing up the paperwork from the prescription drug case. Nadia, refusing to go home, perked up immediately, seeing the detective go pale. "What is it, Brett?" Cally barked.

Antonio smiled at her, wondering not for the first time how such a forcefully angry voice could come from such a blonde, innocent seeming package. Even knowing a lot of what she had been through didn't fully explain it, especially since he had seen Callahan cut loose, had seen her lighten up since getting with her fireman.

"There was an incident at a scene, we just got to Lakeshore and Lieutenant Clarke wanted me to call you and Lieutenant Casey. You and Detective Dawson should probably get here if you can."

Cally started to ask more questions, but she realized the other woman had already hung up. Was Jeff okay? Wait, she supposed to call Matt or was that what Sylvie Brett had hung up for? What about Gabby? Something must have happened to her if Matt was getting called and she was told to bring Antonio. She wavered, bracing herself against Antonio's desk, her legs feeling not so solid.

"Cal, what is it?" Antonio asked, looking at her with concern.

Cailin shook her head, "We need to get to Lakeshore, now."

"On it," Antonio replied, already pulling out his keys.

She waited until they were in the car before she said, "we were both supposed to come. Something happened at a scene." Her thoughts zeroed on Lakeshore. It couldn't be that bad, if it was a major trauma, they would have been sent to Chicago Med. At least she desperately hoped and prayed that was the case.

Antonio got them to Lakeshore in record time, Sylvie Brett still finishing up the paperwork; but unlike 51, the rest of truck 25 wasn't waiting anxiously in the waiting room. Only Captain Davis was there, seeming more annoyed by the incident than anything. He waved his paramedic over and told her to fill Cailin and Antonio in.

"Hi, I'm Sylvie," the blonde said bobbing over. Cailin couldn't help but think she looked like a mini-Shay, down to the wide, blue eyes. "It's nice to meet you…well not here, but in general, this isn't where i would have wanted to meet you, but Lieutenant Clarke talks about you all the time."

Cailin cocked an eyebrow, desperate for the woman to tell her something and thinking she was more of a puppy than even Mills was the first time she met him.

"Well as much as he talks at all, which is not really, but Gabby, I mean Candidate Dawson does and-" Sylvie Brett finally broke off taking in the expressions on both of the detectives' faces. "I can't tell you much more than I did on the phone, Lieutenant Clarke was conscious and responsive, he probably dislocated his shoulder. Candidate Dawson inhaled a large amount of smoke and was unresponsive at the scene, though after resuscitation and oxygen, she regained consciousness. Doctors are treating them both now. I'm sure they'll be with you both soon."

Antonio set his jaw, forcing himself to remain strong, thanking Brett before going to call his parents.

Cailin nodded as well, only realizing Matt had also arrived when he snapped, "Clarke was supposed to make sure she never got hurt, it's the only reason I let her go up there!"

She looked at her friend dumbfounded, as did Brett, who hastily finished up her paperwork and headed toward the exit.

"He's not God, Matt, she's a firefighter, and she is going to get hurt! And let her? You aren't her keeper!" Cailin replied, her voice growing louder, confused as to where Matt's venom had come from.

Cailin would have kept on berating him, if the doctor hadn't stepped out. They both looked at her expectantly. "Detective Callahan? Lieutenant Clarke is asking for you, this way please."

"What about Gabby?" Matt asked, glaring at Cally as his he clenched and relaxed his fists over and over. "The attending should be right out, sir, we'll be right with you."

"Come on, let's sit down, Matt," Cruz said, having been assigned to drive his Lieutenant as he went tearing out of 51 after Brett's phone call. Everyone was raring to go once Matt said something had happened with Gabby, but they had gotten their own call out.

"I don't want to sit, Cruz, I want to know that Gabby is going to be fine when Clarke was supposed to be watching out for her, she is just a candidate."

"I am sure he was, buddy, just like I am sure Dawson is going to be fine; but Callahan is right, we are going to get banged up every now and then, and Gabby knew that when she signed up, she's been around the firehouse for how long now? Being pissed at your friends, no, your family isn't going to help anyone. So how about we just wait to hear what the doctor has to say first?"

Cailin followed the doctor back through the maze of treatment areas, where she drew back the curtain, revealing a querulous looking Clarke, soot and sweat covered, sitting on the edge of the exam bed, still in his bunker pants and boots, right arm in a sling.

"Jeff," Cailin said, her voice cracking, her heart a little along with it. Sure she had seen him bumped and bruised before, including the burns after the building collapse, but then she had been with him all day.

Part of her was relieved, having built up a thousand horrible scenarios in her mind, but the other part of her knew every last drop of dread he must have felt after she got shot. She rushed up to him, stopping short of touching him, not wanting to jostle him and cause him more pain. He looked like he was in plenty already.

"Come here," he said, reaching out with his left arm to pull her in, needing her right next to him. Not giving a damn as the hot poker of pain raced down his arm and shoulder.

"What happened?" she asked, burying her face in his neck, wrapping her arms carefully around him, wetting his skin with tears of both relief and concern.

Clarke rested his chin on the top of her head, feeling her hot tears mix with the soot and sweat, knowing exactly what she was thinking, her swirl of emotions; he had felt them just as acutely after the shooting. He inhaled deeply against the top of her head, wanting to be strong for her, wanting to convey that everything was fine, that he wasn't going anywhere. He kissed her golden blonde crown saying, "I'm fine, Cal, I promise. Just wanting for an MRI to make sure there isn't a tear. Separated my shoulder at a scene today, that's all, it happens."

"That's all?" she exclaimed, moving quickly back, her head snapping up as she half-glared at him. "Did you forget who you are talking to? I know bumps and bruises and sprains come with the territory, but shoulder injuries? Separations? Those only happen with a high impact fall or trying to yank someone up. So which one is it, cowboy?" The term of endearment as much a warning that he better not be cowboy-ing it up too much. Her brain caught up with her heart… Gabby, smoke-inhalation, Jeff's injury. "You had to catch Gabby, didn't you?"

He shrugged, instantly regretting it. "We were trying to make a save."

She knew by the darkening of his eyes that they hadn't. It happened, not very often, but it did. And she knew he took it personally, felt it deep down in his core. Every firefighter did, but Jeff especially so; driven to make up for all the saves he didn't make at war, and after…

She moved forward again, her hands finding his sullied face, ignoring the tensing of his jaw as he tried to brush it off, stuff his emotions down. "I'm sorry, Jeff, I am so sorry," she said, pulling him to her chest; working against him as he tried to withdraw from her grasp, finally breathing again when he relaxed against her, more of a collapse, taking in her scent and strength.

The attending came forward, looking at the three men in the waiting room, two in CFD uniforms, and one with a badge prominently hanging on a chain around his neck. "Family of Gabriela Dawson?" he asked, his gut telling her they all were.

Matt and Antonio stood at the same time. The doctor looked at them both a long beat. "I'm her fiancée," Matt explained, knowing Antonio looked related.

The doctor nodded before speaking. "Ms. Dawson suffered some severe smoke inhalation as well as some burns on her face and neck. Those are all first-degree, thankfully, more like a bad sunburn. The smoke inhalation was enough that she did lose consciousness at the scene. With oxygen therapy, she was alert when she came in. However, we made the decision to sedate her and place her on a ventilator until her stats come back up. We still need to assess and make sure there is not any permanent lung damage. Luckily, she was removed from the building and treated quickly; I suspect she will make a full and expedient recovery. You may see her, though she probably won't be very responsive."

Antonio nodded, awash with relief; he knew his little sister was strong, and if the doc said she would make a full and expedient recovery, he knew she would be better than new in no time. He noticed Matt still looked furious, wondered for a moment if he had misinterpreted something the doctor had said. "You go, Matt, I'm going to wait for our parents, they should be here soon."

Matt followed after the doctor, storm clouds following behind him. He couldn't quite figure out why he didn't feel any relief at the doctor's words. He also didn't know why he was filled more with rage than concern or fear. All he knew was that the second he heard the paramedic from 102 call and tell him that Clarke told her to call, he had been unable to quell the wrath building inside of him. This was why he hadn't wanted her to go through with the academy. This was why he had hoped she would stand down after her ankle got hurt. Or after Jones killed herself. Or after the building collapse. He had even hoped that his injuries would dissuade her from powering through.

Secretly, he was overjoyed when Austin gave up her spot, had hoped it would finally be enough of a deterrent for her to go back to being a PIC, or maybe even re-think about going to med school. But then Clarke had to swoop in, like a damn knight in shining armor and save the day. He tried to be all right with it, her up at the 102, out from under his watch. Clarke had been a great firefighter, quick on his feet, industrious, head down and job done, driven, the perfect Squad guy. Plus, he had been in the USMC; so he should have been a great Lieutenant. Not to mention his oldest friend had been saved, in all senses of the word, by him.

So Matt had sucked it up, told Gabby to follow her dream, had played the supportive role. But it didn't stop the constant feeling of almost possessiveness, that if she wasn't under his watch that something like this would happen. Clarke wasn't as invested as he was, period. And now Gabby was lying in a hospital bed on a ventilator because he had trusted Clarke to keep her safe. And Matt wasn't sure he would be able to forgive either of them for that.

**Chapter 29: Fire Water Burn**

Matt's anger did not subside as he followed the doctor to the ICU, a nurse stepping aside as she finished checking Gabby's stats, saying, "her pulse ox is coming up nicely, shouldn't be hypoxic for much longer. Pulse is strong, blood pressure stabilized. She's still fading in and out, but I think that is more the sedatives."

"Thank you, Caroline. Lieutenant, I'll leave you two alone for a few minutes. She should be able to hear you, but might not respond."

Matt clenched his teeth and fists, trying to will the anger away, holding himself together long enough for the doctor to leave the room before moving to Gabby's beside, gripping her hand and flaring his nostrils. "Damn it, Gabriela. You aren't supposed to get hurt!" he snarled. He felt the slight flutter of her hand in his, looking down as her eyelids also fluttered open.

She attempted to raise her head, looking at him with glassy and confused eyes.

"Shhh, don't move, baby, just lie there," he said, his anger, at her at least, dissipating as soon as he say those chocolate brown orbs. "You're going to be fine, you got hurt at work because Clarke-" he broke off as she attempted to lift her head again, the monitor picking up the increase in her pulse and blood pressure. "You're okay, you're safe, I know, I know, just lie back, the doctor says you are doing great."

Gabby felt like she was swimming under water; but in a nice warm, dark ocean. Almost like the underwater caves by her abeulita's. Something kept nibbling at her, an annoying fish she couldn't swat away. She just wanted to sleep, but wasn't sure if she should and she kept thinking she was seeing a baby at the bottom of the cave and was frustrated she couldn't get to it. She kept reaching, reaching; finally it grabbed her hand, now she just had to make it to the surface…

She opened her eyes, seeing familiar blue ones looking down at her. That look, the one of concern tinged with…was that annoyance? Anger? Where was she? Where was the baby? She tried to raise her head but Matt gently pushed her back down. Why did she still have a SCUBA mask on? Was her certification still up to date?

Finally, her ears caught up along with her memory. The fire, trying to reach for the mother and her baby, the woman fighting her, Clarke telling her to stand down, catching her before she fell, defying his orders, the flames rushing over them, that feeling again of falling, down, down…but she was safe, Matt had just said so.

But what about Clarke? He had saved her life at least once today, but was he okay? She struggled to sit again, trying to grab at the tubes holding her back, trying to figure out where that incessant beeping was coming from, fighting Matt who wasn't letting her up. Suddenly, a figure in scrubs appeared at her side, a needle in hand, reaching for the tube coming from her arm and again, she was back, diving down into the warm embrace of that deep blue ocean…

"You should go, sir, she needs to remain relaxed and resting so we can get her off the ventilator," Caroline said, giving Matt a very pointed look.

"I don't need a wheelchair," Clarke protested, growling at the orderly.

Cally couldn't help but let out a hollow chuckle. "Shoe's on the other foot now, I'd say," she retorted.

Clarke glared at her until he saw the cloud pass over her eyes. He took a breath, working his jaw before saying, as calmly as he could muster, "except I didn't get shot, Cally."

Cailin still looked slightly wounded as they rounded the corner to the MRI suite. "You can wait right here, Detective, this shouldn't take long."

Cailin nodded at the orderly, looking at the ominous tube inside the room. "Consider me glued to this spot. Love you, Jeff," she said, leaning down to give him a quick kiss.

"I'll be fine," he replied, "promise." He didn't like look of worry clearly displayed on her face, knew she was fighting so it didn't show.

Cailin nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek, knowing Jeff Clarke did not make promises he wouldn't do everything under the sun to try to keep. She did remain rooted to the spot, watching through the window as his upper half disappeared into the tube, trying to see in to where the doctors were watching the monitors. She knew this was nothing, but she still found herself struck with the worry of what if, or what about next time; not to mention she wondered just what had gone on at the scene. It hadn't escaped her that Jeff hadn't revealed any information about what happened during the call-out, but there was something in his eyes…

Clake lay there, listening to loud clicking and clanking of the mechanical beast he was in the belly of. Frankly he wouldn't be surprised if he did more than dislocate his shoulder, the second go round of hauling Dawson's ass up had sent a wave of pain through him that he hadn't felt since the darkest days over there hauling up some boot milliseconds before he got taken out by a insurgent sniper. He knew if there was a tear, he would be on leave for a few weeks at best and at worst…well good thing he was in already in med school.

He certainly hasn't planned on becoming a company man for the department when he first signed up, he didn't even consider it when he came back, he figured he would be in Squad until he got too old to do it anymore. That was the Squad way, lifers until the ivory tower put you out to pasture.

But, like so much in his life since first laying eyes on the haunted but attractive blonde, things changed. Clarke knew Cailin hated being protected; never the one to play the damsel in distress. Except something in his very core demanded that he save her, that he be there for her. That need, combined with hearing and later meeting the great Connor Callahan had altered his career trajectory. Originally it had been with taking the Lieutenant's exam, planning on working his way up to the ivory tower. Then it further altered with his decision to enter med school and move away from fires completely.

Previously he didn't think he could handle making the calls that might end somebody's life. Doing that during the war had been enough to break him, those ghosts still haunted him, probably always would. Now, with Cailin at his side, he rediscovered his strength and knew he would be able to make the right call for the right moment, whether as a firefighter or as a doctor.

Which is why he had told Dawson to stand down, her defiance was unacceptable as a candidate, but from a paramedic's perspective he could completely understand her actions. However, as her lieutenant, he couldn't condone them. But what was the appropriate punishment? She was already dealing with the physical consequences. No mater how he tried, Clarke couldn't push the image of her unresponsive face out of his mind or his fear that he was some how responsible, that as her CO, he was responsible.

He should have dragged her out of the building when he told her to stand down, he knew that look in her eye, had seen it in the mirror more than once, that inability to listen to orders or reason when you had the chance to make the save. Despite seeing her come to in the ambulance, despite Brett's overly enthusiastic supposition the Dawson was going to be "just fine", he still worried.

He knew Casey was probably wearing a hole in the tiles of the waiting room, his gut probably rolling with anxiety and anger. Clarke had felt all that and then some back the day of the shooting. He knew his fellow Lieutenant would professionally understand that their job was dangerous and accidents happened, but Jeff wasn't sure that the other man would personally be able to forgive him for putting his girl in danger...even if it was her own defiance that got her there.

"You can sit up, Lieutenant Clarke. I'll be right in. Should I ask the Detective to wait outside or.." The doctor trailed off.

Clarke cleared his throat, "Nah, she should be in here, seeing as we're getting married in a couple of months, for better or worse and all that."

The doctor let out a slight laugh. "In that case congratulations and we will both be right in."

Cailin stood, still afraid of getting too close of jostling Jeff, of causing him any additional pain. She could tell by the way he as holding himself that he was fighting back large amounts of it.

Clarke studied Cally out of the corner of her eye, leaning toward him and then quickly adjusting her weight away, chewing on the insides of her checks, forcing her face into a mask.

Both looking intently at the doctor, breath held until she spoke. "Your shoulder dislocation has been successfully reset, however the inflammation from that is clouding the results, I can neither confirm nor deny if there is a tear. If there is no tear, it should heal fine on its own. If there is a tear, we may have to do surgery depending on how large it is. Regardless, your healing will take time and patience and you won't be running into any burning buildings anytime soon."

Clarke worked his jaw, digesting the information. He had started med school for a reason and had been exceling at it. But something about his firefighting career being put on hold, if not over was still hard to swallow. "How long and I am going to be riding the pine for, best case scenario, Doc?"

"8-10 weeks, I know that might feel like forever. And no heavy lifting and keep that wing in the sling, if you want to marry this one not still wearing it," she said with a look of warning.

"Yep, shoe is on the other foot for sure, cowboy," Cailin quipped, forcing herself to sound chipper despite the less than comforting news. She knew the CFD was Jeff's backup plan, he had been outperforming all expectations in med school and she had no doubt he would make an amazing physician.

Clarke was able to give a small smile, "yeah, well I expect you to be as much of a hard ass as I was."

"I'll do my best," she replied, carefully leaning in and resting her forehead to his. "Damn it, Jeff, don't scare me like that, again okay?"

They heard the doctor clear her throat behind them. "I'll get someone on the discharge papers." She studied the pair for a moment. "And I'm going to guess you are going to refuse a wheelchair?"

Clarke's raised eyebrows and Cailin's slight snort were answer enough.

**Chapter 30: Fires of Yesteryear**

Clarke finally discharged, Cailin juggling his paperwork and turnout pants, the couple strode through the waiting room, close but not touching as both worried about the 'wing in the sling'. They stopped short seeing Matt Casey pacing, Cruz sitting, head resting on hands resting on knees. Cally felt her breath hitch, stopping completely as Matt charged toward them.

"You, how could to let this happen? This is your fault, Clarke! Just because you passed the damn exam-" he charged toward them, Cruz jumping up at the same time Cally cut in front of Jeff, feeling the heat radiating off of both men.

"How is she?" Clarke asked, his voice almost hollow, Cailin could tell he was struggling to keep things under wraps, trying to diffuse the bomb that was Matthew Casey.

"In the hospital because you didn't protect her!" Casey's voice cracked at the same time Cally could feel Jeff's resolve breaking, and with it, her patience.

Matt lunged forward, Joe grabbed his shirt, Jeff's progress blocked by Cailin throwing down the items she was holding, full Mama Bear mode on. "No, Gabby's here because she got hurt on the job, a dangerous job. Things happen, Matt, even when you make the right call, people die!"

"Don't you dare bring up Darden, Cally, you lost that right when you didn't come home for his funeral!" Matt's eyes were daggers, so were his words.

Instinctively, both Cruz and Clarke stepped back, sensing the storm that was building had nothing to do with them. They caught each other's eye, at the ready if they needed to step back in.

Cailin felt her face flush, with both anger and shame, though slightly confused as she hasn't brought up Andy Darden's death. "I couldn't, I was-"

"Undercover, hiding in New York, like you did since graduation day!" Matt snapped, years of resentment he didn't even know had existed clawing its way to the surface.

"I was working and you know damn well Heather wouldn't have wanted me there!"

Matt sneered, "yeah, well did you ever think about what Andy might have wanted? What I wanted or needed?"

"Well you weren't exactly on a plane to New York either when I needed you, were you, Matty?"

The air was electric, anger filling the space between the two old friends as their old wounds ripped open. They were stopped only by footsteps coming up behind them, the four in the waiting room turning to the trio entering.

They stared expectantly at Antonio, flanked by his parents; tears streaming down Mrs. Dawson's face, but her smile from ear to ear. "She's awake and asking for you, Matt, you should get back there."

Matt's relief was clear, sticking his hand out to Antonio, a hug in return, one last glare at both Cally and Clarke before booking it toward ICU.

The elder Dawsons collapsing in chairs, hugging each other, prayers of thanks being uttered why Antonio took in his teammate and the other two firefighters. "Why do I get the feeling I missed something?"

"Because we all did," Cruz muttered under his breath.

"How's the shoulder, man?" Antonio asked, wisely sidestepping.

Clarke gave a curt nod, "Remains to be seen. But I saw how much fun the two of you had in PT, I thought I'd give it a go."

"Smarter to do without getting shot," Antonio joked before his eyes turned serious. "Look, I've known my sister her whole life and I know how head strong she can be, so thanks for whatever happened today, I'm sure you had her back."

"Part of the job," Clarke replied, turning the mask back on again.

Cailin took it in, her own emotions leveling out, clearing her throat, "keep us updated, will you 'Tonio? I should probably get this one home."

Antonio nodded, understanding, pulling the pool vehicle's keys out of his pocket. "Will do, Callahan. Take care of home first, just let Voight know."

Cally reached out, taking the keys. Antonio caught her wrist, gave her a long look and said, "Casey isn't thinking clear right now, Cal, just keep that in mind."

"You planning on telling me what I missed back there?" Clarke asked as Cailin set him up in the bedroom, fluffing his pillows, moving him to the opposite side of the bed so his arm would be better protected.

"When you tell me why you didn't tell Casey it was Dawson's fault that you got hurt," she replied, her look telling Clarke she had pieced together things on her own.

Clarke studied her, standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes full of worry, slightly haunted. He didn't want to press, but he did want to know why Casey's words seemed to get under her skin so quickly, so deeply. He had heard about Andy Darden, not just because of the Darden boys being under foot while their mother was caught up in legal woes. Severide had told him about the scene where Darden had died, a part of the other man still holding himself responsible for the tragedy that had occurred. He knew that Severide was best friends with the fallen firefighter, but something jogged in his memory, Casey had grown up with Darden and that meant...

He felt Cailin's weight carefully settling beside him on the bed, slowly adjusting so as not to jostle him.

"Andy moved to Mount G when we were in 7th grade. He sat across from Matt, damn if those nuns didn't have us in alphabetical order up through high school graduation," Cally said with a laugh and a far away look in her eyes. "It was that awkward time, one minute Matt and I were like we had always been, climbing trees, telling tall tales, fighting like siblings; the next second we didn't want anything to do with one another…" she trailed off, "it was right before things got really ugly between his parents, things were rough; both his parents were drinking too much, Christie was always gone. Andy's parents were separated, he and his mom moved here to move in with her parents. I think he and Matt bonded over the whole parents fighting thing." Cally shrugged, twisting her hair around her finger, her sweater hanging off her shoulder, wide-eyed, giving Clarke a window to seventh grade Cailin Callahan. "Andy's dad was a firefighter, which of course Matt also was excited about..." She paused, lost briefly in the memories.

She paused long enough that Clarke finally interjected. "He left you in the dust?" His tone light while his eyes held concern.

Cally shrugged, "whatever, I get it, my house was the escape, but I can see how the whole picket-fence thing could be annoying to him. Eventually they both let me back into their boys' club when they discovered girls and realized I made a great go-between."

Clarke sensed the undercurrent of bitterness and sadness in her words, though she settled her face into that careful mask she wore a little too well. He could see both sides of it, the need to have someone that understood only having one parent around, but he also understood being left out; his older brother practically had made that a varsity sport growing up.

She shook it off, rising off the bed and saying, "you should rest, can I get you anything?"

He looked at her, debating, knowing she could shut down just as easily as she could open up. Clarke worked his jaw, debating before saying, "yeah the rest of the story, Cal, because you and Casey looked ready to murder each other in the waiting room."

"Because it wasn't fair of him to blame you because Gabby got hurt. I'm not sure what all happened, but I know you, Jeff and I know you never would have made a call to put her in danger!"

"That may have been what started it, but that wasn't what spun you both out," he countered.

Cally wrinkled her nose, "ancient history." His snort said otherwise.

She looked at him for a long beat, overwhelmed by guilt and also by his obvious concern. "Andy and I may have secretly dated for a couple of years." She waited for a reaction that didn't come. "I kinda left things a little unresolved when we graduated." Another long stretch of silence, as Clarke laid waiting, much more practiced, his patience almost infinite. "I may have boarded the Lake Shore Limited without saying goodbye. To anyone."

Eyebrows raised with the smallest of smirks. No wonder Casey had been pissed. Clarke bet everyone had been. It didn't really surprise him that Cally had essentially run away, she hated big scenes, despised being emotional or the center or attention. No wonder she had to get plastered to plan their wedding.

He was still curious about that, though now was hardly the time to bring it up. "Bet that went over well."

Cailin gave an embarrassed shrug, hiding behind her hair. "My family only disowned me for about three seconds, I am the baby of the family after all. Matty eventually came around when he needed me to talk him through some girl problems and Andy...well, Heather was happy to quickly jump in and mend his broken heart."

Clarke worked to maneuver to pat the foot of the bed, wanting her to take a load off in more than one sense. He could tell something more was weighing on her than just a bad high school breakup. She sat with a sigh, still not saying anything. "Babe?" he questioned softly.

She frowned, "I did want to come back for the funeral; after I got Matt's message, I bought a ticket, was halfway to JFK in a cab. But..." Her breath caught in her throat, lost in time in those dark days after Doyle's death, finally cleared for duty and full of anger and hate and more than a few crippling panic attacks. "Special Vic's needed a female to go under on a trafficking case, I thought it might be linked to Nansenko, so I didn't make my flight." She didn't add it was unrelated and she blew her cover and the op by beating the crap out of their suspect when he slid his hand up her thigh. A forgiving and talented DA the only reason they still got a collar and she still had a career.

"So why didn't you tell Casey that?" Clarke queried.

"Probably for the same reason you didn't tell him the whole story about that," she pointed at his arm, "being his girl's fault. Matt Casey is great at selective listening and while I love him like a brother, he is awfully damn quick to judge sometimes."

Clarke laughed bitterly, "hadn't noticed." He let out a sigh of his own. "Dawson ignored my stand down order. After I'd already pulled her up once after she forgot she wasn't still a paramedic. I barely pulled her up again when the ground floor decided it wanted to join the basement, but she had already yanked off her mask..." He trailed off, kicking himself for letting her try for the save in the first place. "I wasn't about to blue falcon her on top of everything else."

"You wouldn't be throwing her under the bus, Jeff!" Cally retorted, wanting to shake him for his hyper loyalty even if it was one of the things she loved the most about him. "She was insubordinate to her CO. She could have gotten herself far more hurt, killed, you as well! Gabby needs to remember that while she might be an amazing and experienced paramedic, she's still a candidate firefighter!" Cailin could feel her anger and frustration growing at Jeff, at Gabby and at Matt.

"I should have known better, I should have known she would have gone for the save."

"You aren't psychic, Jeff!" Cailin said, really wanting to shake him now, stopping mostly because of his arm. "You can't stop Gabby from being Gabby, you can just help turn her into a bad ass firefighter. Assuming she has learned her lesson. But you need to tell the truth, if not to Brass, at least to Matt."

"I'll make you a deal, I will if you will. Casey should know the truth, and if he can't forgive you and let that go, so be it, better for you to know," he said, sticking out his left hand awkwardly.

Cailin looked at him, "and do what with that knowledge? Flush an almost 30 year friendship down the toilet?"

"It's his choice at that point, Cal."

She let out a small growl, reaching to shake his hand, pulling back as he winced. "Take a pain pill, would you, Clarke?" she said, climbing off the bed and gesturing to the bottle on his nightstand.

"You aren't going to let me get away with anything are you?" Clarke said, giving her a smile through the pain.

"I learned from the best, cowboy," she said, leaning over for a careful kiss.


	10. Feel That Fire

**Chapter 31: Feel That Fire**

After handling all the paperwork from the Oxy case so Antonio could be with his family, Cailin told Voight she was taking some time.

"Let me guess, wedding planning, cupcake?" he said, something between a smirk and a frown on his face. Cailin rolled her eyes before catching Erin's glance, giving her friend a slight scowl.

"Lay off, Hank, she's going to check on her friend, the one related to 'Tonio in the hospital." Erin gave their boss a look that was not to be argued with.

For not the first time, Cally wondered what it was like in the Voight household when the teenage Hurricane Lindsay came rolling in at Category 10. Even as Voight was already softening, Erin's dimples were on full display as she gave a full, throaty laugh, "besides we already did most of the planning, remember? Oh wait, you bugged out early."

Erin and Cailin caught each other's eyes again. Did he just squirm? Hank Voight rarely cracked a facial expression, let alone squirm. Cailin raised her eyebrows and Erin jumped in to rescue right as Adam looked like he was about to unwisely butt in. "Which reminds me, Valentina said she had some sketches for you to look at and wanted to take some real measurements, Cal."

"Women," Hank huffed, motioning for Alvin to join him in his office, slamming the door behind him.

"You being serious, Er?" Cally asked, still trying to remember everything from that night.

"I would never joke about a Valentina original. But go check on Gabby, let us know and maybe we can catch dinner later, swing by 'Tina's?"

Cailin found herself a mix of curious and excited, having already seen the designer's talents in action. Despite far too much alcohol on everyone's part, she was sure the dress ideas would be divine. And hopefully affordable. "You got it."

* * *

Cally wasn't the least bit shocked at finding the left-handed chicken scratch from Clarke informing her he had already gone to his first PT session. Nor was she surprised when he came through the door a short time later, ice pack held to his shoulder scowling and complaining.

"I'm fine, I'd be better if I could get started with the damn PT!" he growled.

"You separated your shoulder less than 24 hours ago, babe, you still don't know if there is a tear. What did you really think was going to happen?" she said, slightly bemused until she saw the glower on his face. "I know you want to get back to it. What did Captain Davis say?"

"After ripping me a new one for not booking it out of there at the first command? That I'm no good to him on light duty, doesn't need a damn house cat, especially since we only running 4 man trucks as it is and with Dawson out…" he trailed off, shaking his head angrily, "he is calling HQ. With my luck, I'll be answering phones and getting some Commish's coffee," his eyes flicked over her face, "no offense."

Cailin laughed, "none taken, just know most of them take it straight black," she finished with a wink. She laughed again at his almost pout. "Come off it, Jeff, how many times did you become the ice pack police? Give it a rest for a couple of days, it won't kill you and then let the PTs put you through the wringer. Think of all the studying you can get done in between fetching coffee? Besides, I know you, and you'll be back at it in time for me to worry that you won't make it to the church on time."

He took in her smile, as well as the worry darkening her blue eyes. He knew that she was carrying a weight beyond just her argument with Casey, her guilt over not coming home. He moved quickly across the condo to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter, sorting through the mail, brushing her hair behind her shoulder with his good arm. "Hey, Cal, look at me," he said, catching her face in his palm, "I'm not going anywhere on you, that's part of why I'm become a boring old doctor, remember? And I'll be at the church before you are, I'd bet on it."

She smiled up at him, biting her lip, "oh, a bet, huh? Just as long as you don't have Erin cuff me to my desk in order to win."

"You cuff yourself to your own desk enough as it is, babe," he paused for a minute, a look in his eyes. "Though speaking of wedding stuff…" he trailed off.

Cal rolled her eyes, "please tell me you haven't rethought any of Shay's crazy plans?"

Clarke cleared his throat, "not in the least. Its just Severide has already been making noises about wanting to plan my bachelor party."

"There is no way that ends well," Cally said, rubbing her palms over her face.

"Then I probably shouldn't add he thinks we should go to Vegas," Clarke added, bemusement in his tone. He had told his friend there was no way that was going to happen, but Severide had blown him off, already full speed ahead with plans and ideas, already trying to make it a Squad reunion.

Cailin looked at him, trying to imagine Severide dragging him around Vegas. She reached up, patting him on the face, "you have fun with that, try to not get stripper rabies."

He looked at her, slightly surprised, his brow furrowing as he tried to formulate a response.

Cally laughed, "don't look so shocked. I know you won't let Severide peer pressure you and you only have one good arm, how much trouble can you get into? Besides, I know you wouldn't do anything too dumb, you already know how bad jail is."

"Very funny, Cal," he grumbled, knowing she was speaking the truth.

"Yeah, well, I already bailed you out once, and god knows how much this Valentina 'original' is going to cost me, so you better not be stupid," she warned, with a smile and a kiss.

He kissed her back, trying to wrap his arms around her, already frustrated at the sling keeping them apart. He let out a growl of frustration, "stupid shoulder. You still owe me a catch-up on this whole cops planned our wedding thing."

"And you can get it, after we go by Lakeshore to see Gabby. Antonio said she is up to visitors."

The pair arrived at the hospital, Cailin nearly obscured by the bouquet of flowers and balloons she had brought.

"You are't going to float away on me, are you, Cal?" Clarke teased as she struggled to get through the doorway.

"I know, it is ridiculous, but I stupidly mentioned to the florist I was getting married and didn't have a florist yet and then THIS happened," she replied, shaking her head.

Clarke bit back a snort. "So do we have a florist now?"

"Not this one," she replied with a sneeze.

After consulting at the nursing station, they found Gabby's room, lightly knocking and stepping in after hearing her croak out "come in."

"Hey, Gabs, how you feeling?" Cailin asked, plastering a fake sunny smile on her face, wanting to appear buoyant despite her concern. It disappeared as soon as she took in Matt's scowling face, seated next to the bed.

"What are you two doing here?" he snapped.

Cally immediately tensed, ready to pick back up the argument from the previous day, stopping only as Clarke gripped her arm with his good one. "Checking on our friend, Casey," he said, his tone stern, hoping the other man wouldn't make a scene in a hospital room.

Gabby looked from face to face to face, trying to figure out what she had missed while drifting in and out of consciousness. At least they had taken her off the damn ventilator and drugs so she was able to break the surface. Her mother had practically flooded out the hospital with her tears of joy when Gabby uttered her first words, her father not far behind. Thankfully Antonio had been there to deal with them before they suffocated her with hugs and kisses. Matt also hadn't left her side, except to grab a quick shower and change of clothes when the nurses teased him that he was starting to smell ripe. Leslie had already been by, bringing a ridiculous teddy bear with her, so big she had to have Kelly carry it in. And now here were Clarke and Cally, adding to the florist explosion already occurring in her room.

She just couldn't figure out why Matt seemed so pissed when her Lieutenant had risked his ass to save hers. She had been worried about Clarke, had tried to ask, but Matt brushed her off, Antonio finally telling her he was fine; except that brace on his arm said otherwise.

"Okay, what is going on you guys?" she asked, her voice far more full of gravel than she would have liked. She started to cough, Matt immediately at the ready with her glass of water, all but putting the straw in her mouth. "I've got it!" she protested, reaching for the glass. None of the trio said a word, looking at each other silently, the tension growing in the room.

Finally, she couldn't take it any more, especially when she saw the venom in Matt and Cailin's eyes as they glared at each other. "So before CFD gets on my ass, I guess I need to report to my Lieutenant. So you two, clear the room," she said, shooing the lifelong friends away. "You can leave that monstrosity next to the life sized bear Shay brought, Cally."

Cally complied, giving her friend a terse smile and Jeff a look until he finally nodded. "See you in a few, Gabs," she said, moving quickly towards the door.

"You don't have to give a report yet, Gabby," Matt protested, "you didn't do anything wrong!"

Gabby closed her eyes for a long beat, opening them to see Clarke's jaw working and Matt's fists clenching. Yep, she had obviously missed something major. "Just give us a minute, Matt, okay? I could really use a ginger ale."

"Fine, but I'll be right back," Matt said, glaring at Clarke in warning before heading out in the same direction as Cailin.

Gabby waited until he had disappeared before letting out as large a sigh as her still slightly tender lungs would allow. "So how much trouble am I in, Lieutenant?" she asked, hoping she hadn't ended her CFD career before it really ever began.

* * *

**Chapter 32: Keep the Fire Burning**

Cailin emerged from the hallway, not wanting to go to the waiting room or cafeteria. She hesitated, not sure where to go. She heard Matt's familiar tread coming up behind her, pausing as soon as he neared and then stomping off in the opposite direction. She thought back to what Jeff had said to her; that she should tell Matt the truth, clear up any misinformation. She took a breath, turning, calling after him, "Matt, wait!" He didn't even pause, heading down another hallway.

Cailin rushed off after him, stunned at his action, anger propelling her as much as anything. "Damn it, Casey," she hissed as soon as she was in earshot.

He shook his head, still not turning as he strode into a room filled with vending machines, fishing a dollar out of his pocket and inserting it into a soda machine. It spat it back out at him, causing him to scowl, snatch the bill, flatten it and attempt to feed it in again.

Cally stood in the doorway, watching him fight with the machine, frustration emanating off of him.

Finally, his rage overcame him, his fists pounding at the machine, the bill crumpling beyond recognition in his hand. "I just need a stupid ginger ale for Gabby, is that so hard?" he snapped.

"Here, let me, I've got a ton of change in the bottom of this," Cally said, scrounging in the bottom of her tote bag.

"I don't need anything from you, Callahan," Matt said, turning brusquely away from her, smacking his palm against the vending machine again.

She felt the weight of his hand as though he had smacked her instead of the machine. "Matty, stop, look at me, can we talk, please?"

He spun, his eyes flashing. "It is Matt, I haven't been Matty in a really long time and I would rather not go back to the time that I was!"

"Fine, can we talk, please, Matt?" she spat back, torn between wanting to fight him and wanting to salvage a lifelong friendship.

"There is nothing to say, Callahan. Your Lieutenant didn't do his job so my fiancée got hurt and when my Squad Lieutenant didn't do his job, our friend got killed and you couldn't be bothered to come back home."

"So are you pissed at me, Jeff, Kelly or the whole damn world?" Cailin replied, closing the distance slightly. He didn't say anything, just squared his shoulders. "It wasn't that I didn't want to come home, I was on my way to the airport when I thought I got the chance to try to take out the bastards behind my partner's," she paused before correcting, "husband's murder, the same people that almost killed me. I was barely back on the job and hanging by a thread. I wasn't myself, Matt. Things were really dark for me, but that didn't mean I stopped caring about any of you." She left out the angry telephone call from Heather warning that her presence wasn't needed, hadn't been for years.

Matt's shoulders dropped slightly, before the image of Darden's coffin floated in front of his eyes, of Heather and her boys sobbing at the cemetery. Of all the coffins he had seen in his life. His anger bubbled up again; though Cailin was correct, he was angry at her, Severide, Clarke and the whole damn world. He wanted to brush it all off, since Gabby was more or less fine, but he still was struggling to keep his emotions in check. Despite wanting to reach out and grab the olive branch his friend was extending, Matt heard himself saying. "Just leave me alone, Cally, you are really good at that!"

Cailin felt herself crushed by his words, flattened by his pained expression. Yes, she had run away on graduation night, but everyone knew she was headed off anyway. Yes, she had avoided come home for years, but she had been desperate to prove she wasn't a bother, could make it on her own. But she had never purposely abandoned her loved ones. Except the look on Matt's face said she had done exactly that. "I'm truly sorry I've ever hurt you, Matt, but I can't undo the past."

He shook his head, his eyes filing with angry tears, not saying anything, staring straight through her.

"Fine, I'll go, but I'm saying goodbye to Gabby."

* * *

"You aren't in trouble with Brass, if that's what you're worried about, Dawson," Clarke said raising his eyebrows as he took in his Candidate.

She looked surprisingly good, more like she had been on a tropical vacation than pulled from a burning building. Except for the circles under her eyes and the creases of worry on her forehead.

"I never should have let you take that one chance. I disobeyed my CO to let you play paramedic when I'm supposed to be making you into a firefighter. I'm not going to let you take the fall for my error. But you disobeyed my stand down, Candidate. We both knew that building was compromised, you took your chance and it didn't work. You risked both of our lives and still didn't make the save. You and me only ending up here and not the morgue was pure luck, not good firefighting, remember that. Us getting hurt is on us, we both have to deal with that. I'll deal with the higher ups. You keep your mouth shut, and that is an order you will follow if you want to stay on my truck. But this is a one time thing, Dawson, you gotta decide if you want to be a 'medic or a firefighter and that is on you."

Clarke's nostrils flared as he finished his speech, fighting to stuff his anger down, at the both of them. He shouldn't have let her try the save in the first place, except he knew how twisted up she would get fighting the 'what ifs'. And he would deal with that. Davis had made it clear that he was none too happy with being ignored. Gabby had to learn she couldn't jump into a save with her heart instead of her head if she wanted to stay alive.

Gabby lay there, waiting for Clarke to continue, she was expecting his simmer to boil over. She had gotten him in trouble with their Captain, she had literally run away from his order in open defiance and she had almost gotten them killed. And now he was standing there telling her to keep her mouth shut? While he was stuck on desk duty and she was cleared to return to work shift after next? There had to be more.

But there wasn't, Clarke remained silent at the foot of her bed. "So how much do I need to lay off the sweets?" she said, pointing at his arm in the sling.

He couldn't help but smirk. "Give me some credit, Dawson, I'm smart enough to not go there. This was dislocated, they still don't know about a tear, I'll find out soon enough just how long my desk duty is. What about you?"

She averted his gaze, "Shift after next, assuming the CFD still wants me."

"You'll be fine, Dawson. Just don't pull any more stunts."

Gabby nodded, "I won't, and I've learned my lesson and then some. You don't have to cover for me though."

"Sometimes you gotta cover your platoon's ass. Part of the job. I should have known better." He rocked back and forth on his heels, taking in the bouquets in her room. "You opening a florist, Dawson?"

Gabby rolled her eyes, "tell me about it, and I don't even like flowers. But I guess the guys didn't know what else to do and my family…it wasn't like I was dying." She looked at him, brow furrowed, "did Cally freak out?"

Clarke gave the smallest of shrugs, "she kept it together." Better than Casey, he silently added. "She was worried, but she knows the drill."

A small bark of laughter escaped Gabby's lips, "I wish I could say the same. Matt's been watching me like a hawk."

"You can't blame him, Dawson, you are his fiancée," he said, though he was instantly angry at defending the other Lieutenant, especially considering the way he had jumped down Cally's throat.

"I guess so." She paused looking down at her hands and then up at him with wide-eyes. "Thanks for saving me, twice, Clarke. I'm sorry you got hurt. I feel like I owe you more than just dinner at our place now. Though we should still do that, and soon."

Clarke was pretty sure a happy double date would not be happening with them, Dawson and Casey anytime soon, but he wasn't about to open that can of worms. "You don't owe me anything, just watching out for my Candidate," he replied bashfully, awkwardly patting the bedcovers over her foot.

Matt's snort of derision could be heard from the doorway, causing Clarke to stiffen and Gabby to look confused. He strode to the bedside, setting down the can he had finally wrested from the vending machine. "Here's your ginger ale, babe. How are you feeling? You look tired. They should go, so you can get some rest."

"Go? I haven't even seen Cally yet," Gabby protested.

"I'm sure she has to get back to work," Matt said, his voice like ice. Clarke didn't say anything, guessing if the pair had even had a conversation, it hadn't gone well.

Gabby nodded, "of course, yeah, well then. But I meant what I said, you two over for dinner soon, okay, Lieutenant?"

"Take care of yourself, Dawson," Clarke said, giving her a small, clumsy salute on his way out, not even making eye contact with Casey.

Clarke found Cally talking to Antonio next to the coffee vending machine. "At least you two aren't eating donuts," he teased. They both gave him dour glances, but neither left him hanging long before breaking into wry grins.

"We already inhaled those, bro. How's the shoulder doing?" Antonio inquired.

Clarke gestured, "I'll live. Good to see your sister is doing well too."

Antonio nodded, "our whole family owes thanks to you. As I said yesterday, I know she is headstrong, glad she had someone like you there to have her back."

Clarke looked slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable; Cailin caught his expression, thinking it was typical Jeff, not able to take any accolades. He saw her looking at him and gave Antonio a nod, "yeah, well, I know you've got this one's back in IU, so glad I could return the favor. Anyway, I think we are going to head out, let Dawson get her rest."

Cailin looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed, she hadn't said more than a couple of words to Gabby, but considering how Matt had stormed past her and Antonio talking, she was betting he had gone back to the room and all but kicked Clarke out. He blinked long, telling her everything she needed to know. "Take all the time you need, 'Tonio, I'll close out the Oxy case and tell Voight where he can stick it."

"I'm all good, Gabs will be out tomorrow. You're allowed to take time off too, you know," he said, gesturing toward Clarke.

"Like this one will let anyone do anything for him," she said wrapping her arm around his waist.

"Sounds familiar," Clarke retorted.

"I bet it does. You two have a good night and thanks again."

They settled into the car, Cailin fighting the urge to assist Clarke with his seatbelt, knowing how much he would hate it. He could tell she was holding back, her hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel despite the car not being in gear. "Thanks," he said, after it clicked into place.

"I get it, babe," she said, finally relaxing her hands and turning the engine over.

"I know you do, you get me," he said, leaning over and landing a kiss on her cheek. "Now I don't know about you, but after Casey's warm and fuzzy reception, I could use a pint at Molly's."

Cailin cracked a smile, "and you get me. Glad to know I wasn't the only one facing his wrath. But let's not a bitch about it until we have beer."

* * *

**Chapter 33 Smoke from a Distant Fire**

"I thought Gabby was doing fine," Severide asked as Cally slumped at a barstool next to him while Clarke was chatting with Hermann getting pints.

Cally made a face. "She is, out tomorrow and back to the field before that one," she said, gesturing down the bar. "It's Matt that's the problem."

Severide looked quizzical, "I figured he would be fine now that he knows Gabby is going to be."

"He's blaming Jeff, and then decided it was a good time to give me a guilt trip about Andy," Cally replied, angrily folding the coaster in front of her.

"Darden?" Severide remarked, his eyes growing wide and confused.

Cally nodded, "yep."

Severide felt himself go slip sliding down memory lane, recalling the trio had grown up together. He often forgot that the Cal he heard stories about from his two best friends at the firehouse was the same Cailin sitting next to him; mainly because he often forgot that his buddies had been talking about a female, given their shenanigans. "Andy Darden, damn," he breathed out, shaking his head and taking a drink of his beer.

Clarke heard Severide breathe out the name, saw the look on both his and Cally's faces and decided to drop off her pint before going to hang out at a table with Cruz and Mills. He set down the pint, squeezing her shoulder before going back for his own, wondering how he was going to get through the next few weeks ones armed.

"What was he guilting you about?" Severide asked, his ire raised at Casey. He and Matt had their big falling out after Darden's death, and while they were able to get along well enough, things were far different than they used to be.

Cally took a drink; slightly surprised Severide was questioning her, their friendship having been more surface level and by association. "About not coming back for his funeral, about not saying a proper goodbye after graduation, for leaving Chicago in the first place. Hell, Matt would have probably preferred I not go to college and just settled down with Andy and be a perfect housewife. He's worse than my mother, Kelly!"

Ah yes, Darden's high school sweetheart, the one before Heather. Severide remembered what a small damn world it was, especially in legacy CFD land. He gave a bark of laughter. "Andy didn't want that, Cally, because he knew you didn't want that. He was happy for you going off to New York, happy with Heather and the boys."

Cally looked at him, slightly disbelieving.

"We aren't complete Neanderthals, Callahan, we talk about those kinds of things. I was engaged once too, remember." He shook his head, shaking off the past with it. "I just forget sometimes that you are the same person they grew up with." He studied her again, thinking on what he knew about the intervening years; from her, from Casey and Clarke. "Don't let Matt guilt you for your choices, Cally, I'm pretty sure you do a good enough job of that on your own. And, not that my opinion matters a damn bit, but I'm glad you are doing that 'settling down' thing with Clarke, he's a good guy."

"I'll drink to that," Cally replied, raising her pint to his. "Though I do want to hear more about this plan you have that involves dragging Jeff to Vegas for his bachelor party.

"Yeah, well, It is tradition, you know, hit some table games, play some cards, stuff ourselves silly on buffets, take in a show or two," Severide replied, unable to read what was happening behind the detective's stoic expression.

Cailin's eyebrow merely inched higher as she smirked, "a show or two? Wasn't aware you and Jeff were so into shows. Who else is joining you two on this little adventure?"

"Well Capp and Tony were supposed to, until they gave me some half assed excuses about yard sales and babysitters. But Mills is-" just then his phone buzzed, he pulled it out reading the text, looking over at the table where the rest of the gang was sitting. "Out, too, bastard," he sighed, glaring at the other man across the bar. "I already booked the damn suite, non-refundable," he growled, draining his beer.

"Guess you and Clarke are having a romantic boys' weekend then, huh?" Cally snorted before sliding off her barstool and heading to the rest of the gang. "I don't think you are going to Vegas," she whispered, leaning closer in to Clarke.

"Babe, I was never going to Vegas," he replied, wrapping his good arm around her, "I don't like to gamble, I wouldn't be caught dead in any of those clubs and," he lowered his voice after checking that the rest of the table was preoccupied, "you get naked without me having to throw money at you."

"You make a good argument, but you sure you don't want a bachelor party?"

Clarke thought back to the disaster his Corps buddies had dragged him to, half of them trying to convince him to not marry Lisa. He should have listened.

Cally watched his eyes cloud, "or at least something? I mean I am fine with whatever, you know that, right?"

"I know babe," he said, knowing she was telling the truth.

"Oh snap, bro, hope you don't mind getting kicked back to truck," Cruz exclaimed, bringing the couple's attention back to the table, where Mills was laughing at Severide's continued glare across the bar.

"Whatever, stupid idea. Sorry, Clarke," Mills said, correcting.

Clarke raised his eyebrows, withdrawing his arm to take another drink, already tired of his injury. "Wasn't my idea, Mills."

Just then a familiar figured entered, one that caused Severide to quickly close his tab and head toward the exit, giving Mills and Clarke one last slightly defeated, slightly angry look on the way out.

Erin Lindsay gave the fireman a slight wave before making a beeline toward her friend. "You got a sec, Callahan?"

"Please tell me those aren't case files," Cally groaned, seeing that Erin had something in her hand.

Erin broke out in an ear to ear grin, looking more like an excited teenager as she shook her head, "nope, way better. I stopped by Valentina's on the way over. You mind if I steal your girl, Clarke? We have some top secret wedding stuff to take care of."

"Sure, why not, seems the CPD is planning my wedding," he mock grumbled.

Erin stuck a hand on her hip, "you saying you don't trust the IU?"

Clarke cocked his head, "you I trust, those knuckleheads you two work with, not so much. But go, have fun."

"Shay, get out from behind the bar, emergency wedding planning meeting," Cally called.

Shay almost vaulted over the bar from where she was drying glasses. "Hey, she's on-shift!" Hermann protested.

"This is way more important than making sure your glasses are spotless, Christopher, bridesmaid duties trump bartending," Shay shot back.

"They are your glasses too!"

Shay threw her towel at him. "Oh that's right, I do also own this bar; in that case, shine those glasses until I can see myself in them, Hermann, I got wedding planning to do."

"I am really ready for you and Ugly to be married, Callahan," Hermann grumbled.

"You ain't the only one," Cailin agreed.

"Holy crap, Erin, these are all amazing and there is no way I can afford any of them," Cally exclaimed flipping through the sketches Erin was laying out on the bar.

Erin could barely contain herself. She had never really gotten into normal 'girly things' like daydreaming about wedding dresses or any of that growing up. She had been too busy trying to keep her mother on the rails; she didn't have the time or energy to bother with pretend. She knew Cailin, perennial tomboy and career focused, was of similar constitution. But something about this brought out a different side of her. "You can afford free, Cally," Erin said, her eyes sparkling and her smile bright.

"Shut up, really?" Cally said in as close to a squeal as either other woman had ever heard.

Erin nodded, "though I may have promised that all of us would be getting any special occasion dresses from her shop from now until the end of time."

Cally made a face, causing Shay to bust out laughing.

"I think she would have preferred buying one, Detective Hair-" Shay broke off, realizing what she was about to call Erin to her face. "Uh, anyway, this one is awesome, Cally, and look at that slit, very Angelina," she said, pointing at a sketch.

Cally nodded, "yeah, and it would look great on your gorgeous long legs, why don't you hold on to that sketch for when you get married, Leslie, because never gonna happen here."

"Speaking of never gonna happen," Shay sighed.

"Don't say that, Leslie Shay, you are going to find someone perfect for you, you just have to find faith, every pot has a lid!" Cally protested, pausing, "did I really just say that? Who am I?" She looked slightly disgusted.

"Drink up, Callahan," Erin, "before you completely turn into a girl," she said, pushing a glass of whiskey at her friend.

"Just a sec," she replied, entranced with the sketch that she was looking at.

"What? Let me see!" Shay exclaimed, not sure she had ever seen the look currently on Cailin's face before. She moved in closer, looking over the other woman's shoulder. "Oh, Cal," she breathed out, taking in the sketch; the sleeveless v-neck, covered in delicate lace, the fit and flare style vintage, yet romantic. As if Valentina knew this was the one, this sketch was accompanied by swatches of delicate ivory lace and champagne silk.

Cailin cleared her throat, reaching for the whiskey to force the lump down. "I know, right?" she breathed out.

"I think we found our winner!" Erin said, pulling out her phone to call Valentina.

"Wait, are we sure?" Cally said, already second guessing herself, which she had done with every aspect of this wedding planning with the exception of the groom. She despised being so indecisive; it was so unlike her nature.

"Yes!" Erin and Shay replied in unison.

"It is pretty nice for one of them froo-froo dresses," Hermann remarked, cocking his head to try to see the sketch upright.

"No, no boys allowed!" Shay protested, flipping the stack over.

"Come on, I'm closing up my bar for the reception, least you can do is give me an insider look."

Shay and Cally rolled their eyes, Hermann had been whining about the closure ever since Shay told him it was happening. "Sorry Christopher, you were out voted. Besides I thought you liked Clarke and Cal."

"I do, but think of the revenue we are losing!" he protested.

"It is one night, Hermann!" Cally said, chewing her lip. Maybe they should have gotten an actual reception place, but on this short notice and Shay had seemed really excited about offering up Molly's and Otis and Gabby had been immediately on board. Not to mention it felt right, it was their place and where all their people were.

Hermann shook his head, "but a Friday night!" He saw the dejected look on the detective's face. "Oh stop it, Callahan, I'm just pulling your leg. Mostly. Molly's is all yours, even if Cindy can't understand why you two want to have your reception in a dirty old bar."

"Because we are going to clean it up before then, Hermann," Shay pointed out, "besides, if it goes well, think of the revenue we could get from actually renting out this place as a reception hall."

"I hadn't really considered that, especially if we get that outdoor space cleared up…" he rubbed his chin, wandering off, lost in the possibilities.

Cally raised her glass, "bless you for knowing how to Hermann wrangle, Shay!"

"Okay, now that we've got that squared away, Val wants to know about bridesmaids dresses," Erin said, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

Cally looked forlorn, "I have to make more choices? Ugh, I take it back, Shay, when you do find your lid, elope, just elope."


	11. Fireman

**Chapter 34: Fireman**

Clarke watched as Cally got ready for bed, flitting between the bedroom and the bathroom, asking him countless times if he needed anything. He was beginning to understand why she got so annoyed with him, except he wasn't wheelchair bound and hadn't been shot. "Cal, it is just my shoulder, I'll live. If I need anything I can get up and get it."

She paused, toying with the button on her pajamas, hating wearing the thick flannel ones, but fall seemed to have been short-lived, the nights turning bitter and cold, the old condo turning practically frosty after midnight. "Unless it required two hands," she quipped, knowing he was gently calling her on her mother hen act. "I know, it's just you took such good care of me, Jeff, I just want to return the favor."

"There isn't tit for tat with us, Cally, I love you, we aren't keeping score," he remarked, propping his good arm behind his head. "Now how many times do I gotta explain heat transfer to you, that you would be warmer if we sleep naked?"

"Nice try, Clarke, but we aren't trying to survive in the wilderness. Besides, I got some case files to read, figured I would go do that in the freezer of a living room and let you rest. You've got class in the morning."

"Bring your files to bed, I can sleep through anything, remember? But I was kind of hoping you would tell me what had you, Erin and Leslie squealing about by the bar." He kept his tone light and playful, but he was secretly excited about what plans had been made for his wedding.

Cailin flopped on the bed next to him scrunching her face and saying, "6pm wedding at Holy Family, reception at Molly's, you're a guy, what more do you need to know?" She smirked, "oh wait, I forgot you and Shay were planning the royal wedding why I was undercover."

"Be nice, beautiful," Clarke cautioned, scooting over for a kiss. "I know you had your reservations and I was trying to take some of the stress away. I didn't know Leslie was going to go overboard, okay?" he said, leaning against her.

Cally moved back, wrinkling her nose, "fine. I guess I could have been more into planning in the beginning, but you've been working and going to school, so I didn't want to burden you."

"Really, babe?" he said, shaking his head, "it is our wedding, our relationship, shouldn't we be the ones calling the shots?"

"Yes, and we are! I looked at all the stuff you and Shay had talked about and tried to flush out what was actually reasonable and us and affordable and came up with some things."

"Such as?" he prodded, trying to not be worried she still seemed to be holding so much close to the vest.

"Erin got us the hook up on dresses, the guys can wear their dress uniforms, we don't need to decorate the church because it is decorated for Christmas, Hermann put the ixnay on anything beyond tablecloths and flower arrangements at Molly's, Nadia has a friend that is a DJ, Katie Severide is doing the catering, Jay has a CI that owns a printing business, Mouse and I came up an invitation, Adam has a buddy from the academy that is now a photographer over at CSPU, Alvin and Hank are in charge of the cake," she paused, "fine, that one sorts of scares me, but whatever."

"More than a crime scene photographer taking our photos?" Clarke replied with a smirk.

She moved back closer to him, snuggling up to his good side, "it'll be fine, everyone will take pictures on their phone as it is. Cullen said he is going to take care of music at the church, though he did say we have to fill out the stupid FOCUS test, the diocese wouldn't let us skate on that."

He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight, giving her a look and saying, "why I am I not surprised there is a test? Good thing I am a good test-taker."

"That you are, Doctor Lieutenant," she replied, tipping her head up for a kiss.

Clarke gave her a knowing look, returning the kiss and saying, "though I might need to study up."

"You never did tell me how the talk went between you and Casey," Clarke said, deep in a bowl of oatmeal early the next morning, chasing his spoon around the bowl, trying to not be frustrated.

Cally rolled her eyes, taking a big drink of coffee before answering. "Considering how you rushed us out of the hospital, I am guessing he hightailed it back to Gabby's room after his showdown with the vending machine. So you tell me, cowboy, how do you think it went?"

"That bad?" Clarke asked, feeling bad for her, knowing how strong their friendship had been while they were growing up, not to mention knowing their connection was formed because she had reconnected with Casey after returning to Chicago. If it hadn't been for the other man, she would never have dropped off food that night at the firehouse.

Cally shrugged, "he's still pissed, about a lot. I don't blame him, he's had so much loss in his life…"

"So have you, Cailin!" Clarke countered.

"Not in the same way. Despite everything, I've always had an emotional safety net; I've always known people would be there for me. My family might be loud and big and crazy, but they are always there." Her shoulders slumped, "and I always counted Matt as part of that, but I guess maybe he didn't. I didn't realize I hurt him so much, Jeff. But we were eighteen, stupid kids and by the time Andy died, so much time has passed, I hadn't talked to him in years, other than a Christmas card or email here and there…it seemed like another lifetime ago, but I guess it wasn't, isn't, not to Matt at least."

Clarke reached across the table, squeezing her hand in his, "he'll get over it, Cally, and he just needs time. He was just scared for Gabby. I know what it feels like, to get that call…not knowing, you play all these scenarios out, trying to hope for the best, but preparing yourself for the worst."

She drew her hand back, "you think I don't know that, you think I wasn't thinking all those same things on that car ride over? That I didn't want to drop kick Sylvie across the waiting room until she finally got out that you were okay? I get that he was scared, but there is no excuse for him blaming you or digging up past transgressions. I spent plenty of time wandering around New York lost and broken; figuring I had done something wrong, that I was to blame for what went down, not just then, but for every bad thing that had happened to everybody I have ever loved. But I snapped out of it, enough to make it back here, to find you, to realize the sometimes bad shit just happens," she stopped, taking a breath and giving him a long, hard look, "that when you run out of sand, that is just it. Blame, anger, that isn't going to change anything. I hope he gets over it, Matthew Casey will always be family to me, but I am not going to just sit back and take it."

"I am not asking you to, Cailin, nobody is, you told him the truth and I meant what I said, after that it is on him. But I do think he will get over it, in time."

"Yeah, well, I hope you are right, but I don't think he is going to be my brides-man like Gabby suggested. Which means I am stealing Shay," she said, with a slightly sad smile, it growing more to a smirk as Clarke look wounded.

"How come you get Leslie, she's my fishing buddy!"

"Maybe we can work out visitation, cowboy, now would you hurry up and finishing chasing down that oatmeal so I can get you to class before Voight puts me in the back with Mouse on A/V duty?"

Cailin forced herself to put her head in the game, to not dwell on Matt's outburst, to not hen peck Jeff, despite wanting to call in favors with her brothers, to not let Voight have it when he informed them they were being reduced to security guards.

Until things went sideways and they found themselves ducking gun fire, in what turned into a full on bloodbath, a US attorney finally showing up to inform them that the truck had been carrying evidence in addition to cash. She barely had a chance to crash out next to Clarke for a couple of hours over the next few days, the stack of instructions from the doctor and PT the only clue to how his week had gone before she was back at again, chasing down some jerk wad named Oscar that Olinksy had a history with, which ended up with them in another shoot out, this time Halstead having to drop Oscar's brother. By the time the paperwork was wrapped up, or at least enough to punt it over to IA with two officer involved takedowns, it was late and Clarke had sent her another 'heading to bed' text.

She let out a big sigh, vowing to get home before he hit the hay the next night. "I gotta start getting out of here before Jeff forward's my mail!"

"Agreed," Erin said sorting through the stack of messages Nadia had given her before heading out. "Good thing your fireman has the patience of a saint."

"If I don't show my face when he is awake soon, it may wear out," she replied, leaning against her friend's desk, catching sight of a name written over and over again on the pink slips. "CI begging for a bone?" she asked, studying her friend carefully. Erin had been brushing the caller, and Nadia off for the past couple days; it was uncharacteristic, the detective usually quick to cut the cord on any needy CIs.

Erin's eyes grew stormy, her jaw set.

"Something like that." She cocked her head slightly, realizing for once she did actually have a female confident in her life. One that wasn't rushing home to kiss her kids goodnight, something that had always put a wall up between her and Jules. "Wanna catch a drink? Though I gotta stop by someplace first."

"Sure," Cally agreed, even though she really just wanted to curl up next to Clarke and see if she could catch up with him; there was something in her friend's expression that made her agree.

"We're stopping at a bar on the way to get a drink, really Erin?" Cally remarked as her friend pulled up to the curb.

"Just stay in here and don't let them ticket us, would ya, Callahan?"

She threw her badge up on the dash, watching as her friend strode into the mostly empty dive bar and had a terse conversation with the bartender. "Everything go okay in there?" she asked as Erin got back into the car, slamming the door. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Now how about that drink, Jay's up at this new place, think he is trying to sleep with the bartender."

Cally stiffened when she first heard Erin mentioning Jay, until she added the bit at the end about the bartender. "Good for him, maybe it will keep him from drooling over you."

"He does not drool," Erin protested, but a flush rose to her cheeks.

"Sure he doesn't. I'll bet you twenty bucks he forgets all about the bartender the second you walk in."

"You're on," Erin said, shaking her head, trying to shake off Jay's crush on her as much as she was trying to shake off the conversation she had just had with her mother.

They entered, and much to Cally's surprise, Jay barely gave them a head nod as he watched the bartender bending over to get something out of a low cooler.

Erin shook her head and laughed her trademark throaty laugh. "Oh, she is cute, Jay. Now what are we drinking, Callahan is buying."

"Beer, a pitcher, it was only a twenty, Erin," she said, giving her friend a look, before looking back at Jay who was looking at them confused.

"Whatever, beer it is, Maddie, get us a pitcher, will you?"

"Coming right up, doll face," Maddie said with a wink, looking curiously, if not territorially at the two women flanking Jay.

Erin and Cally waited until the woman turned away again before giving each other a knowing look. "So you sleep with her yet?" Erin asked, not beating around the bush.

Jay shook his head, "not answering that. Hey, did you two hear there is a target on my back for real this time?"

Both women froze, looking at him as if he had grown a second head. "Way to change the subject. Are you saying there is a hit out on you?" Erin hissed quietly, "who, when?"

"Why are you out in public, Halstead?" Cally snapped, looking around at the other people in the bar.

Jay shrugged, "Oscar, after I dropped his brother. He sent a message through Alvin. And I am out in public because by the time I got home, they had already redecorated my place; so why not be out in public, they already know where I live. Where else am I going to go? Don't suppose I can crash with you, Erin?"

"You're paying for half that beer, Dimples," Cally snorted, taking in Erin's fluster.

"Why don't you crash with Maddie?" Erin said, after glaring at her friend.

"Or, I don't know, at the precinct, while we figure out who is trying to kill you! Why aren't we back at work?" Cally said, slipping her coat back on.

Jay tugged on her sleeve, "chill out, Callahan, Voight and Olinksy said they had it covered. Take a load off, drink some of the beer you bought-"

His next words were cut off by the gunfire that quickly erupted nanoseconds after the bell on the door jingled announcing new patrons.

"Could we have one day where we don't get shot at?" Cally growled, as she pulled out her gun from her tote bag.

"Would be nice," Erin replied, barely rolling out of the way as glass exploded around her.

In seconds it was over, the pair retreating into the night, Cally chasing after to them, trying to get the license number of the car they jumped into, swearing at the blank space where the plate should have been. She let out a stream of curse words as she stormed back into the bar, looking around to survey the damage, realizing Jay and Erin were both over the body of Maddie the bartender, trying to stop the blood flowing out of her neck. A few more choice words escaped her lips as she pulled out her phone, calling for a bus and the crime scene unit. Had it really only been less than a week since she was lying in bed with Jeff going over the details of their wedding?

**Chapter 35: One Wing in the Fire**

Brett and Chout arrived quickly, Sylvie quickly jumping into action while still getting the shaken Halstead out of the way. Erin and Cally exchanged a look, it didn't look good.

Voight arrived a short time later, loaded for bear and bitching about Halstead refusing protective custody and not informing him his place had been ransacked. By the time they dealt with Voight and rallied back to the district, Cally was already dealing with a stream of worried texts from Clarke, having been informed by his paramedics about her presence on the scene.

"Why couldn't we have just stayed at that first dive, Erin, the one not in his district?" She grumbled, trying to reassure Clarke she was fine. Apparently he was still shaken from the whole Gabby incident.

"Because if I would have spent another second around my mother, there would have still been gunfire," she retorted under her breath.

Cally felt herself start. "Wait, that was your mother?" she quietly hissed.

Erin gave her a 'we will talk about it later' look.

Later didn't happen until after they tracked down the scumbags that had been gunning for Jay and nearly killed Maddie, when both women were too keyed up to head home.

The pair found themselves once again at Valentina's shop, this time the designer handing them tequila while sneering at their bag of fast food. "Look ladies, 'Tina does not have time to be letting out dresses, so you two better be working off that food later, you hear?"

"10-4" they both agreed, both normally tough women a little concerned over angering the statuesque woman. Erin finally fessed up about her mother's upcoming marriage and attempts at a reunion, getting a "she is not getting one of my creations, sugar plum," from Valentina, as she angrily stabbed at a wary Cally whom she was draping in champagne silk and lace.

"Watch it there, both of you," Cally warned. "I need to not be bleeding when I try to convince Jeff I am fine and you need to not be sucked into that emotional black hole that birthed you, Erin."

"Oh, I have no plans to. That ship has long since sailed, I learned my lesson a long time ago."

Cally studied her carefully before softly replying, "I really hope that's the case, Erin."

By the time Cailin actually made it home, Clarke was asleep on the sofa, though judging by the textbook still clutched in his 'good hand', she surmised he had been attempting to wait up for her. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. Was it out of wanting to catch up or wanting to ream her for not calling him back after the bar got shot up? She got her answer as soon as she shut the door behind her and he bolted awake.

"What the hell, Cally?" Clarke said, his voice husky with sleep, which Cailin almost found sexy enough to forget his angry question. Almost.

"What the hell, what the hell? I was working a case, connected to another case where they tried to take out one of my teammates. Cop, Intelligence Unit, nontraditional hours, any of this ringing a bell, Jeff?" she said, not wanting a fight, but the ire in his eyes quickly bringing one about.

He sat, slamming the book on the coffee table. "I know all of that, Cal, we've been down that road. The what the hell is about me having to hear about you getting shot at from my candidate calling me after my paramedic came back from a DOA scene!" Cally stood, barely inside the doorway, not putting her tote down, not taking her coat off, arms crossed over her chest, boot tapping slightly. Ready to walk right back out that door at any second, he could tell.

"Though I am not sure they are my damn anythings anymore, because I am stuck down at HQ reviewing files and my damn shoulder is most likely going to get me put to pasture!" he added.

"Put to pasture, you are in an accelerated med school program! But if you want to complain about being stuck at HQ, be my guest," she shot back.

"No, I don't want to talk about HQ because that isn't the point. You are going to be my wife, Cailin and you are in the middle of a gun fight in the middle of a bar where someone almost ends up dead and you can't even return a phone call?"

"You aren't my mother, Jeff!" she snapped, instantly regretting it. Exhaustion, the adrenaline let down, stress over their wedding rapidly approaching despite work ramping up, her worry at his injury, her sadness about Matt, all of it bubbled up and over. "I'm sorry," she immediately apologized, dropping her bag, her coat on top of it and making her way over to the couch, trying to not cringe as he moved away, jaw working.

She sat next to him, dropping her head to her hands, rubbing her palms over her face before speaking. "I should have called, there isn't an excuse except I didn't want to interrupt your sleep. But it you want me to call you every single time I am caught in a gunfight, I am going to be interrupting a lot of your sleep and studying. We don't go after lightweights, Jeff, I thought you understood that. I thought were okay with it."

Something desperate in her tone, pleading in her eyes broke through his anger, not to mention he knew he was more spooked from what happened with Dawson as well as hating feeling like an invalid as well as a coward for not just calling Casey up and telling him what happened.

"I know some of it, as much as you can tell me or what I've heard around. I just, with everything that has been going on and the fact that we are supposed to be getting married in six weeks, it just…I was worried about you, Cally, I love you, I want to know you are coming home to me, just like I want to make sure I come home to you."

Her eyes narrowed, zeroing in on something. "What do you mean supposed to be getting married? Are you saying you don't want to get married because I didn't call, because I haven't really seen you this week?"

He shook his head, knowing there was a high probability anything he said would turn into a fight, both of them at wits end. "No, babe, I want nothing more than to get married, just wanted to make sure it was actually happening, and preferably not in the ICU because you had been shot...again" He looked at her, wishing he could vanquish all the doubt that he could tell was creeping through her mind, alongside whatever other storms were churning. "Look, I am just glad you are home, safe, now can we please just go to bed?"

Cally nodded, thinking all she had been craving for the past week was to share the same bed as him for the entire night. "Good, because I did take a pain pill before I conked out," he said with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

"Wait what do you mean Gabby called you about the shootout, she is back at work?" Cally asked the next morning as they lay tangled in sheets together before Jeff had to go to class.

Clarke closed his eyes again, shaking his head. "Really, Cal, that's the first thing you ask this morning? And yes, this was her second shift back."

Cailin could hear the bitterness she knew he was trying to hide in his tone. "How's PT going?"

"Good, grueling, but the tear shouldn't require surgery, which is what I wanted," he said, sitting up, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder that he had overworked the past couple of days worrying about his fiancée.

"I'm getting you an ice pack and then I'm snuggling back in with those PT instructions, cowboy, make sure you aren't overdoing it," she said, seeing the flare of his nostrils as he moved.

She came back, handing him the back, a sheaf of papers in her hand, climbing back in to bed, giving her phone a look as though willing it to not ring before he had to leave.

"I probably am overdoing it, but I don't want to meet you at the altar in a sling," he admitted as she carefully read the papers.

Cally smiled, pausing to figure out how to gently pull him into a hug, fully appreciating how gentle he had been with her after she had been shot. "Jeff, I'll marry you however I can get you!" she said grinning at him, imagining what it would be like meeting him at said altar.


	12. Firehouse

**Chapter 36: Firehouse**

"I'm just saying I don't understand what your problem is with me being back to work or with Clarke!" Gabby exclaimed. She couldn't take it anymore. While she had followed Clarke's orders and hadn't said anything to Brass, she wasn't going to let Matt stew anymore. Especially since it seemed to be affecting his relationship with Cally. She hadn't heard a peep from the blonde detective since they had stopped by the hospital, and given his glower when she asked after her, she knew he hadn't either.

"Look, Matt, I'm the reason I got hurt, ME! I'm also the reason he got hurt, he pulled my ass up twice, even after I ignored his stand down. I took my mask off because I was trying to be a paramedic instead of a firefighter!"

Matt still didn't look convinced. "He should have had a better eye on you!"

"He had me at his hip, I broke protocol. I ran away from him as he was pulling me out of the building. So quit being angry with him. If you want to be pissed at someone, it should be me; all Clarke has done is try to protect me. He knows I'm on thin ice with HQ, he told me not to tell anyone what happened, but I'm tired of you being mad at him and taking it out on Cally too, Matt? You guys have been friends forever."

"I'm not taking anything out on Cailin. She made her choices, she walked away."

"What are you even talking about, Matt?" Gabby asked, thoroughly confused.

"She left Chicago, left us without saying goodbye, she abandoned us!" Matt snarled, his anger from the hospital returning.

Gabby's brow furrowed. "She left to follow her dream, she went away to school!" Gabby felt torn, wanting to support her fiancée and wanting to defend her friend. She wasn't sure what had drawn Matt's ire, but that was something she had been dealing with since his head trauma. Except this time it didn't seem to be a passing storm, this looked like it cut deep.

"She left to become a lawyer," he spit back, the weight of that lonely time after she first left crushing down on him. Andy had tried to brush it off, telling him he was fine, that they would have broken up in a couple of months anyway, quickly jumping into a relationship with Heather. Matt found himself shunted to the side, something that had not happened when Cally and Andy were dating. He felt like a third wheel. Not to mention he refused to talk to his mother, despite her constant attempts at contact from prison and Christie had also all but disappeared from his life, galavanting across Europe working on her art history degree. Thankfully he met Hallie the first day of orientation.

"You are ticked because she became a cop?" Gabby asked, gaping at him. "So what, people change. You met me as a paramedic; I was thinking about going to med school a year ago and now I am becoming a firefighter. Are you going to start resenting me too, Matt?" She tried to keep her tone light, almost teasing, but doubt and worry still flitted across the back of her mind.

Matt glared at her, "you haven't abandoned me, Gabby!"

"And neither has Cally! She came back, didn't she? And she has been nothing but supportive. She made every effort to become friends with me, despite going through some pretty tough shit because she knew how important I was to you. And I returned to the favor because for how long had I been hearing about your buddy Cal? You practically lived with her family, Matt; they are more your family than the Casey's!"

"She couldn't say goodbye when we graduated, she couldn't say goodbye when Andy died, she only came back when she burnt out in New York!"

"After her partner died, her husband! I would think you of all people would cut her some slack! Are you really going to let years of unvoiced resentment ruin a lifelong friendship? Because if so, you might not be the man I thought you were!" Gabby's eyes were stormy, but they also held a small amount of fear, as though she was worried this new Matt would let the resentment eat at him.

Matt could see her fear as well as her anger. And not so deep down he knew she was correct. However he couldn't quite bring himself to admitting he was over reacting, that he was paralyzed with fear over loosing Gabby. So many people seemed to slip through his fingers, as if in loving them, he was condemning them. Part of the reason he hadn't flown to New York was because he had been terrified if he did so, Cally wouldn't pull through, that his mere presence meant she would die. And then Hallie had...

Matt shook his head, forcing himself to banish the negative thoughts, that magical thinking his shrink warned him against. "Whatever, Clarke still should have kept a better eye on you," he snapped, grabbing his duffle before heading out to 51.

"Would you just fix this, Matt!" Gabby called out as her slammed the door behind him.

Clarke stepped through the automatic doors of Chicago Med, taking in the bustle around him. It was much more chaotic than the clinic he was doing his clerkship at and he tried to picture himself at his internship there in a little over 18 months. He shook his head, best to not get ahead of himself, looking down at the text from Severide informing him that there was a new member of 51 to go meet. It was hard to believe, despite everything that had happened it seemed like just yesterday Boden and Donna had met and now they were having a baby. Clarke smiled, pondering his future with Cailin, even though he wasn't quite sure how they were going to fit kids in between Med School and her work…

Clarke spied his former fraternity milling about, being given the run around by the battle axe in charge of the maternity ward, who didn't care a bit about their uniforms. It felt weird being the only one out of uniform until he spied an excited looking blonde bounding across the waiting room at him. "Hey, Shay," he replied, trying to duck out of her vice grip before she reinjured his shoulder.

"A baby, Boden is having a baby!" she squealed, a sparkle in her eyes.

He snorted, "well not technically-" he started in before Cruz's nurse girlfriend escorted Boden out to the waiting room.

"Gentlemen, Shay," he said getting them all with a stern look before an ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

"Chief, you're a dad!" Shay exclaimed, throwing her arms around him, causing him to stiffen slightly and pat her on the back.

"Appears that way," he said gruffly.

"Is it a girl? I hope it is a girl! Can we see her? How is Donna? We got a few things!" Shay finally let go of Boden, stepping back and gesturing around, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Boden cleared his throat, "actually, it's a boy. Terrance Boden. Donna is fine, but exhausted, it was a long and tough delivery. Terrance is down in the nursery; they wanted him under some warming lamps. We can go see him, but it will be through the glass."

They all traipsed over to see the newest member of 51, even if it was behind a sheet of glass. The tiny thing wriggled under the warming lamps, wrinkled skin tinged by the glow of the lights, full head of thick, black curl hair peeking out from beneath a blue cap. The new guys, lost interest quickly, leaving the old guard behind. Capp and Hermann reminisced about the births of their children, sharing war stories probably meant to scare Boden, but the proud papa was too brimming with joy to let the smile leave his face for even a moment. They quickly wandered down the hallway to call their wives, Cruz and Chout following closely behind in search of food.

Shay was practically bouncing in the hallway, tapping on the glass like it was an aquarium. "Shay, stop," Severide warned, grabbing her hand and pulling it down.

"Sorry, it's just that he is so cute, he had Donna's nose, thankfully. Sorry, Chief," she corrected quickly.

Boden laughed, "it is fine. If you can keep the bouncing to a minimum, I'll see if you can hold him."

"Really?" Shay's eyes were as wide as a kid's on Christmas morning.

"Really, you were a paramedic and are godmother to Christopher's youngest, so I am pretty sure you won't drop him," he finished with a wink.

The remaining men watched as Boden led Shay into the main nursery area. "Wow, she's glowing," Mills remarked.

"Shay loves babies," Severide said.

"Why?" Mills asked, almost incredulous.

"Who doesn't like babies, Mills?" Casey countered.

Mills shrugged, shuffling, looking down at his feet, hands shoved in pockets. "They are kinda loud. And they crap so much."

Severide snorted loud enough that Mills flushed slightly. "I'm going to go…somewhere else."

The three men watched as Boden carefully lifted the baby from the bassinet, handing it to Shay as though it were a grand prize made of glass. Each were lost in their own thoughts, wondering at least somewhere in the back of their minds what it would be like to be a father. Boden looked up through the glass, seeing the weight of the six eyes on him. He made contact with the trio, raising his eyebrows as if he could read their thoughts before carefully handing his son over to the eagerly awaiting Shay.

After Shay practically had to have the baby torn from her arms to go back under the warming lamps by a stern looking nurse, the pair excited, Shay quickly dashing off to call Gabby.

"Watch it Casey, Shay will up sell so hard, Dawson will be wanting a bun in the oven before you get her down the aisle!" Severide teased.

Casey just glowered, Gabby still somewhat on the fence about having children, despite his earnest desire to start a family as soon as possible.

Boden came out, studying Casey, Clarke and Severide carefully. "I know I haven't been a father very long, but it changes things, gentlemen, it changes everything. But I like to think I've had a lot of practice, looking over 51 and its men and women. It's not easy, trying to figure out what is the right decision at any moment, to keep people safe, to do what is right…trying to take in everything you know, everything you believe and come up with the best solution, knowing how dire the consequences can be if you make the wrong decision. Maybe being a father will be easier than being in charge of a firehouse…" he cleared his throat, the other men shifter their weight nervously feeling the underlying message in the older man's words.

He continued, "Severide, why don't you help me pass around the cigars that are burning a hole in my pocket?" Boden said, giving Clarke and Casey a look that seemed to echo Gabby's text. Fix this. As was the way in the CFD, he knew the two men hadn't been getting along since Gabby's incident up at Roger's Park. Even if that station wasn't under his command, he still knew they were a family and families had to stick together.

Both men stood in silence for a long time as the pair exited towards the waiting room. Finally Casey sighed, coming out with, "I guess I've been pretty judgmental with you and Cally, huh?" The weight of the world pushing down his shoulders.

Clarke smirked, "judgmental is one word." He rocked on his heels waiting for the man to come out with whatever was clearly weighing on his mind.

"I guess I have a lot of stuff I am still dealing with. I was talking to one of the guys you recommended and it helped for a bit but then I just got busy…" he trailed off, his eyes darkening, "or maybe it got too real, drudging up all that old stuff about my parents, not to mention the wedding planning and Gabby's family and Christie getting divorced and…just everything. I think I took it out on you and Cailin."

Clarke bit back his 'you think?' shoving his hand deep in his pockets to avoid shaking the man, grateful his other arm was still in the sling. "Matt, I know you have dealt with a lot, more than your fair share your entire life. A man can only take so much, I get it, but just because you are working through stuff in your past doesn't mean you should shove it down Cally's throat. She's struggled too, you know."

"I know, or as much of it as she'll admit to me. I imagine you know more," he took a deep breath, a realization hitting him. "We grew apart when she was in New York, probably because I was stubborn and angry. I was happy when she came back; it felt like old times; except everything was different for both of us. I guess I am a little jealous that you are the one propping her up, that I didn't get that chance, didn't get to repay her for all the propping up she's done to me."

"So you repaid her with blame for leaving?" Clarke snapped, pulling his hand out and holding it up, "forget it, I take it back. And I am not propping Cally up, if anything, she's the one that has saved my ass time and time again. She's also the reason that I stopped being such a hotshot on calls, because I have her to come home to. I made her a promise, and I will keep it. I should have been better about making sure Gabby was doing the same for you."

Casey worked his hand over his face, rubbing at his neck. "No, you did the right thing, man, Gabby, well, she has a mind of her own. Glad she isn't my Candidate for that exact reason, I probably would have kicked her off of my truck had she pulled that kind of stunt with me. As for Cailin, I think I blew it, flushed our friendship down the toilet and for what? Because I was pissed that she left to make the life she wanted for herself instead of the one everyone wanted for her? Some best friend I am."

"You've been a great friend, Matt. And if it wasn't for you, I probably never would have met Cailin, she would have never walked into 51 that day. Which is why before all this mess started, I asked Gabby to have us over for dinner. I was going to ask you to be a groomsman alongside Kelly and Peter. Cailin had thought about asking you to be a 'brides man', but her mother flipped out."

Casey let out a laugh, "sounds like Mother Callahan, she's a bit for tradition in case you hadn't noticed." He let out a sigh, "if you are trying to make me feel like a jerk, Clarke, it's working."

"Don't have to try, you are doing enough of that on your own," Clarke said with a slight smile.

"So what am I supposed to do about Cally?" Casey asked, looking rather forlorn, realizing how much he had wounded his oldest friend and thinking it might be time to call the shrink back.

Clarke raised his eyebrows, "maybe try actually talking to her?" He studied the other man, it was clear he was struggling with his emotions. He made a decision he hoped his bride to be would be okay with. "And if you make things right between you and Cailin, offer still stands, would like to have you standing up there with me on December 26th." He slowly stretched his hand out toward the other Lieutenant, hoping Casey would understand it was also an olive branch.

Casey looked at it for a long beat, as if contemplating, wanting to put all of this nonsense behind them, but more wanting to make things right with Cailin. "I will, Jeff and i would be honored," he said, shaking the other man's hand firmly, reminded of how connected they all were.

**Chapter 37: Light My Fire**

Severide was ready to get out of town. More than ready, in fact. It seemed he had been beat up on nearly every single call as of late. He tried to not blame Squad, but part of him wondered if it didn't have to do with having two new guys on the team. The whole house hadn't been the same since the building collapse, but he was beginning to think Squad was especially cursed.

"So I only get to see you when you come home to pack?" Shay said, flopping on the rarely used bed in Severide's rarely used room.

"Don't start, Shay," Severide warned, knowing he had barely been home as of late, bed hopping around town with whomever took him home at last call.

"Seriously, Kelly? I barely ever see you! I was thinking of renting out your room, would have if you weren't still paying rent. And while I like not having a roommate but still not having to pay all the rent, don't you think that is kind of dumb?"

He shrugged. He knew he had been spinning out lately, especially since Erin Lindsay had dumped him. Not that he didn't deserve it. He had taken her for granted and counted on her being there no matter how much of a jerk he was. Probably because Shay always was. But they were friends, not dating. In fact, they had been best friends and roommates for as long as they had known each other. They even had that ridiculous contract. Had said it was for always. Even when Renee turned up pregnant, even when Leslie looked like she was going to be with Clarice…somehow, in his gut, he knew they both would end up back as roomies, needing each other for support.

"What's that look, Kel?" Shay asked, pulling herself up and looking at him carefully. "I don't think I've ever seen that kind of look on your face before. You aren't dying are you?" she asked, her blue eyes growing wide and slightly misty.

"No, Shay, I am not dying. Jesus! I just need to get out of town for a bit. Gotta go, gorgeous, we'll talk later," he said, giving her a big smile.

Shay raised her eyebrows, not entirely believing him. "Just don't come back from Vegas married to a stripper or missing a tooth."

Severide just shook his head, heading for the door, whistling.

"Does this come with an instruction manual?" Cally asked, gingerly picking up the scraps of lace in the high end lingerie store Valentina had sent her to for 'proper foundational garments' for her wedding dress.

Erin scowled at her. "Watch it, Callahan, I own that in green!"

Cailin pointed to the price tag, "How? Why should I pay this much for this little? I just don't think either Jeff or I are the fancy lingerie type."

"Glad to hear Clarke isn't traipsing around in a teddy," Erin smirked.

"You know what I mean, Lindsay," she replied, gently placing the material back down before slumping in in a slipper chair made for waiting boyfriends, "though sometimes I worry…"

Erin took in the furrow on her friend's brow, the concern in her eyes. She paused in her examination of the silken wares, waiting for the other woman to spit it out.

"I mean, I am so not a girly girl and what if secretly Jeff wants that? I mean I knew Doyle didn't; he hated that his ex-wife was all into shoes and purses and make-up, she practically lived at the salon…but maybe Clarke is just too sweet to say anything."

"You are worried your former Marine, current fireman, future ER doctor, too sweet to say anything? Please, Cally." Erin smirked.

"Well obviously the men you date want it," she replied pointedly, wondering just who exactly her friend was wearing such things for these days.

Erin shrugged, "I don't wear things like this for them, Cal, I wear them for me. Half the time they don't even see them, you see how I dress! Though maybe if I did wear this stuff more often, they wouldn't end up standing me up…" she looked wistful for a moment before shaking her head and saying, "I guess both of our girl chips are broken. We are a mess."

"As long as we don't start taking advice from Leslie Shay," Cally retorted, "except she probably understands guys better than we do."

"That she does. We should probably make sure to keep on her good side."

"I am damn sure I never want to be on her bad side," Cally replied, before pulling out her buzzing phone. "Voight. Again. Playtime is over."

"How is your non-bachelor party? Have you heard from Kelly?" Cally asked Clarke.

"Couple of texts," Clarke replied, biting into his toast and flipping through flashcards.

"And?" she asked, crossing more items off the ridiculous wedding planning checklist one of her sister-in-laws insisted she needed to follow. "What even is a make-up and hair trial? Like should I be hiring a beauty lawyer?"

Clarke let out a bark of laughter, "no clue. And what?"

"Are is he having a good time? Who even goes to Vegas alone?" Cally asked, eyebrows raised as she looked at the clock and put down her pen, shoving her feet into her boots, zipping them up. "Stupid work, stupid to-do lists," she muttered.

"I guess so and Severide apparently," he replied, flipping another page before looking up. "Uh, babe, come here a second."

"I can't, I'll be late, which I can't be. 48 hours gone and Voight is already insufferable and-" she stopped, "ahhhh! Did you just spit on me?" she said as Clarke rubbed at her cheek with a wet thumb.

"You had ink on your face from chewing on that pen, Jaws," he said, smiling down at her as she rubbed furiously at her cheek, making it pink. "Voight is always going to be insufferable, babe. As for the rest of it, quit stressing. A month from now we'll be married, a year from now we won't even remember the little details and we'll still be married. Don't let your sis-in-laws freak you out, okay? We got this." He bent down leaning his forehead against hers, "now go to work and try to not be late to Thanksgiving at your brother's tomorrow."

She looked at him, wide-eyed, with the wedding planning and work and the fall out with Matt, she had lost track of time. "Already? Wait, how did you-" she broke off, "did my mother call you?" she asked, moving back and narrowing her eyes.

"No. She used Connor for the couple of weeks I was working with him," he said before smirking and adding, "and then she sent Colin by. Apparently I'm in charge of the green beans and a pie. I think your family likes me, Callahan," he said, pulling her back to him for a kiss.

She gave in, starting to care less and less about being late until she heard Voight's ring tone. She broke off the kiss with an impish grin saying, "nah, they are just using you for your cooking skills."

Clarke replied with a quick goosing and walking her backwards in a lip lock to the door. "Watch your six, babe."

"See you later, cowboy."

**Chapter 38: Fire I Can't Put Out**

Cailin pulled up in front of Coleman's house in Oak Forest, the street lined with cars, most of them baring CFD stickers, so she knew she was the last to arrive. As if her mother's incessant calling hadn't been warning enough. At least she hadn't to hump it back up from Pekin, it was nice to finally have a case that only required male UCs, even if it had meant Atwater and Ruzek almost started a prison riot.

She wondered how Clarke was faring, certain he had been right on time down to the second, his car actually in the driveway proving that point. She blocked it in, throwing her Police Business placard up on the dash, wondering if there was going to be need for her to bring in her cuffs or not. Knowing her family, it was better safe than sorry.

Apparently she was late enough that the tryptophan had already kicked in and the wall of noise she was expecting didn't greet her. Until she realized the men had been shoved down to the basement to watch football and the children were either out in the backyard running off their boundless energy or were zoned out in front of iPads or video games. Which left a kitchen full of women doing dishes.

"Typical," Cally scoffed, side-stepping before any of them saw her and making her way down to the basement; Coleman's man cave, where all of her brothers, as well as Catherine's male relatives were making grunting noises at the massive screen that was far too big to be called a television. She wasn't surprised to see Clarke's figure leaning against a wall, chatting with Colin and someone else in a CFD quilted jacket, the Callahan houses always taking in random strays, but she was a little taken aback when she scanned the room and saw her youngest brother trying to shove none other than Matt Casey out of one of the recliners.

"Hey, no women allowed!" one of Catherine's brothers started to tease, bringing all eyes in the room on her. A year ago she probably would have had a panic attack on the spot at the weight of so many staring at her, or she would have foamed at the mouth and cursed up a blue streak, assuming she had she shown up at all; but this year, things were different. And that had a lot to do with the tall, handsome figure already making his way across the room, popping the cap off a beer as he did so.

"Aunt Cally's allowed down here, Uncle Coleman said so, plus she can shoot people," her eldest nephew Aiden quipped, beaming up at her with perceptible hero-worship, more wanting to join the PD than the FD, much to her eldest brother's chagrin.

"I try my very best to avoid that, Aid," she said with a smirk, taking the beer and kiss from Jeff, ignoring the catcalls, groans and general uproar it caused. "Fine, fine, I'll go, already got what I wanted anyway. You boys have fun," she said, raising her eyebrows and giving them a wave after quietly asking Jeff if he was good, his nodding reply quick and genuine.

She wasn't even halfway up the stairs when she heard the tread behind her. She turned, wondering if Jeff hadn't been as genuine as he seemed or if Aiden was going to be nipping at her heels begging to see her badge. Instead, she locked with a familiar set of blue eyes. "Would have thought you would have been at the Dawson's," was all she said.

"Gabby's parents went on a cruise with some friends, Gabs and Shay decided to open Molly's," Matt explained before chewing on his lip, tentatively asking, "can we take a walk?"

"And make my mother wait even longer to berate me for missing Thanksgiving dinner? Please, lead the way, can we walk to China?" Cally replied, having already heard all about his talk with Clarke after the restaurant scene.

They ducked out the sliding glass door, sneaking past the kitchen with the stealth of their youth, even if it was in a different house. Their presence caused a slight ruckus with the kids running around the back yard, mostly because they stepped literally into the middle of a game of tag. After bribing them with promises of future candy, Matt and Cally made their way to a bench in the back of the yard next to the storage shed.

"I think my brother took up smoking again," she said, pointing at the butts on the ground.

"Well your mother did move in," Matt replied, the smallest of smiles on his face.

"Guess I should be glad it is just cigarettes then," she shot back.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the kids run around, a couple of the older ones joining in from the living room, having reached their screen time limits or just wanting to be kids for a few minutes.

"I was a jerk to you, Cal," Matt said, following it quickly with, "I don't know if Gabby wants kids either. What is wrong with me?"

Cailin took in both his sentiments, feeling the weight of each of them. "Yeah, you were, Matty. And are you sure? She never said she didn't want kids to me, just because she doesn't knit booties in her spare time doesn't mean she doesn't want kids. I mean look at me, these suckers terrify me, but I still want to have a couple of monsters of my own." She took a breath, realizing what he meant with his last question. "Gabby isn't Hallie, Matt and there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing that has happened to you has been your fault, you think you would believe that after how many years?"

"I know that, but we've fought a lot lately and it seems like something has changed," he admitted, looking a lot like the scared little boy she had so often coaxed from a variety of hiding places growing up.

Cally resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Everything has changed, Matt. You guys are getting married, she is becoming a firefighter, you got a place together…you are a real live adult. And if you have been even a fraction of the jerk you were to me to her, no wonder you have fought."

Matt laughed, "Jesus, Cal, can't let me get away with anything ever can you?"

"Nope." She toyed with the zipper on her coat, "though I should have said goodbye. At least to you and Andy. You would have kept my secret. And it really wasn't that I didn't want to come back for his funeral, I really couldn't. Plus Heather did kinda tell me she didn't want me there."

Matt looked at her, incredulous, "she what?"

"Simmer down, I don't blame her. I didn't want Penny at Jimmy's funeral, but his parents loved her…" Cally trailed off, remembering how Penny had been treated much more like a wife than an ex, Cailin being regulated to just another member of the thin blue line.

"One day you are going to tell me the whole story about all of that, Cally," Matt said.

She shrugged, "maybe, but that will need a lot more of these, and considering I think my mother just-"

"Cailin Marie Callahan, get in here!" Mary Margaret bellowed from the now open sliding glass door.

"Somebody's in trouble," Matt sing-songed like days of yore, to which Cailin replied in a similar fashion by sticking her tongue out and punching him, hard. "Oof," he said, rubbing at it, but equally feeling like the distance between them had closed.

"I really hope we are working next Thanksgiving," Cailin said later as she and Jeff maneuvered around their tiny bathroom. "And Christmas and Easter and Arbor Day."

Clarke kept brushing his teeth, merely raising his eyebrows, finishing saying, "I didn't think it was that bad." He couldn't help but tack on, "and I was there a lot longer than you."

"Yes, thank you for that, by the way, my mother now loves you more," she retorted, finishing wiping her make-up off.

"She does not, Cally, believe me I got the full highlight reel on your praises from her and everybody else," he moved in, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the neck, "not that I needed any of it. The only one who had anything negative to say was Connor, but that was all about your job and I think that was just because Aiden kept going on and on about wanting to join the force."

"That kid, man, he's practically a badge bunny," Cally said, distracted by Jeff's ministrations, "but enough about my family, how about I go show you what I am most thankful for, cowboy?"

The first two weeks of December was gone in the blink of an eye, wrapping up the prison case, dealing with a new Commander, prepping cases for trial, trying to pump Erin for information about her meeting with Agent Lang from the DEA even though she seemed reluctant to talk about it, something further interrupted by some kidnapping case they wouldn't have normally even been working except one of the vics was the daughter of the Deputy Superintendent's bestie. Cally felt she was barely at home and it certainly never seemed to be the same time as Clarke.

Clarke seemed to be spending his little downtime helping out on some project that Hermann roped the gang into. Cally was glad he could feel like he was part of 51 again, but she worried it would make it worse if he did ever return to Rogers Park, Gabby and Sylvie both complaining how it wasn't a family up there. She also worried about him furthering injuring his shoulder trying to keep up. He had mentioned more than once that he was worried about med school making him 'soft' though his body did not show any hint of that.

After patching things up with Matt on Thanksgiving, Cally was quick to arrange for some serious girl time with Gabby, managing a couple of girls' outings with her, Shay, and even inviting Sylvie Brett along. The girl was sweet, and dealing with a slightly stalkerish ex-fiancee, something that put Cally more than a little on edge as a cop who had worked so much with Special Vics. Shay immediately took a shine to her, though Gabby and Cally teased her that was just because Sylvie looked like she could have been Leslie's little sister and their friend was fond of picking up strays.

Gabby admitted to her she sometimes wished they could be back down at 51, laughing about 'getting the band back together'. Cally tried to not press too much when Gabby shut down after Cally pointed out she couldn't be married to someone she was on truck with. After seeing how Matt had morphed into vulnerable, abused childlike Matt when he mentioned his fears about Gabby and children, Cally didn't really want insider information from Gabby at the moment. Not with her own nuptials fast approaching.

She was happy to keep busy at work, it gave her a great excuse to talk to her mother and sisters-in-law as little as possible, as they all seemed to have loud and differing opinions on how she should be approaching the march up to her wedding day. Cally tried to gently remind her mother of her visit up to the city and the talk they had at Molly's, but since Mary Margaret's rival at the senior center she volunteered had a daughter whose wedding was featured in the Tribune, her views had changed slightly.

"I am not postponing my wedding to re-plan it, mother, it is not happening. Jeff and I are going to have the wedding we want on the day we decided to have it. Show up or don't, but it is the day I am getting married," Cailin said, stabbing angrily at her phone outside of the courtroom she and Erin were about to go testify in.

"So I guess now wouldn't be a good time to mention Valentina is ready for our final fittings and thought you might want to bring your mother along?" Erin said, raising her eyebrows.

Cailin would have scoffed, but she saw the look in her friend's eyes, knowing that she was the tiniest bit envious, even if she would never admit it. Plus, Erin had been a big help in offering up Valentina and making sure the IU guys actually followed through with their promises. She settled on, "fine, I guess I can throw her a bone, but you are going to be there and there better be champagne."

"What kind of maid of honor would I be if there wasn't champagne, Callahan?"

So Cally found herself back on the Gold Coast in Valentina's shop, accompanied by three dear friends and her mother. She wasn't sure if it was the champagne or a sense of growing excitement over the fact that she was getting married in a little over a week, but she felt herself overcome with gratitude and love for having these women in her life. At least until she emerged from the dressing room and turned so her friends could help her.

"Cailin Marie, what is that on your back?" her mother demanded, sounding outraged as she spied the ink down her only daughter's back, the dark blue standing boldly out against her fair skin.

It took Cally a minute to realize what her mother was freaking out about, and then in struck her. "He isn't going to change his mind because I have a tattoo, mother, he's seen it," she retorted.

"And then some," Shay quipped, resulting in a glare from Gabby and a snort from Erin.

"When did you do that, why did you do that?" Mary Margaret implored, sounding like she had just discovered her daughter had some sort of incurable disease.

Cally looked over her shoulder as her mother pointed a finger into her back, the digit an accusatory pointer at each letter. "Are you seriously saying Cully didn't narc on me? I almost broke his hand squeezing when I got it. I figured he would rush straight back from New York to tattle-tale. No wonder you never called to yell at me for getting it, of course I thought that was just because...you know," she shrugged.

Mary Margaret put together what her daughter was saying. She had gone with her older brother, a man of the cloth no less, to have her body desecrated. She held her tongue only because she knew her daughter hadn't been in her right mind in those days after nearly being killed. She shook her head, knowing part of her had tried to pretend that this was her daughter's first wedding, trying to ignore that it was more than just the ghost of Connie Callahan floating over them in that odd woman's shop.

Cally cleared her throat, "anyway, could we maybe button this up before I freeze something off?" she pleaded, Shay immediately jumped to assist, Valentina deftly moving the elder Callahan to a chair and shoving a mimosa at her.

"I hope Clarke knows how damn lucky he is," Shay remarked as she deftly worked the buttons, seeing the pallor come over Cailin.

"We both are, Shay," Cally replied, "I don't know where I would be without him."

"You're right where you are supposed to be," Erin added, giving her friend a squeeze on the shoulder.

Just spending a couple of hours having brunch and shopping for accessories with the formidable Mary Margaret Callahan gave Erin an idea of how difficult it must have been for Cailin to keep her mother as much as bay as she had, and how differing of opinions on how the two women were on what Cally's wedding should be like. Maybe not having her mother around wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Oh, Cally!" Gabby breathed out as her friend turned around, the dress buttoned and fitting like it was made just for her, which it had been.

"I think I've outdone myself," Valentina said, fanning herself, and seeing the look on Mary Margaret's face, pulling out kleenex for them both.

"Yes, yes you have, my baby is getting married!" Mary Margaret exclaimed.

"Yep, eloping is always the right call," Cally muttered under her breath as Gabby settled one of the veils they had brought on her head.


	13. Love Fire

**Chapter 39: We Didn't Start The Fire**

"Stop right there, Callahan," came a commanding voice from behind the desk.

"Crap," Cailin swore, "what the hell have I done now, Sergeant Platt?" she asked, frowning at the other woman.

"I am under strict orders to not let you got up there today."

"Strict orders, from whom?" Cally asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Detectives Lindsay, Dawson and Olinsky, Sergeant Voight and that bossy former paramedic from 51. She left you this lovely little note," Platt replied, waving a piece of paper in Cally's direction. "And even if they hadn't decided I was the darn telegraph company, I would be ordering you to, I repeat, stop right there. In case you forgot how to read a calendar, today is December 26th."

Cally crossed her arms over her chest, staring the other woman down. "I am acutely aware of what day it is, Sergeant. Now if you don't mind, I am trying to hide from my family and I have some paperwork to catch up on before I leave for five days."

"I am not letting you up there. Don't make me come around from this desk, Callahan. IU doesn't revolve around you, cupcake, it will go on just fine for five days," Platt warned, seeing a familiar pair coming by. "Burgess, Roman, cuff her if you need to, but get her out of my district, now!"

Cally threw up her hands, "I'm going, going. Call off the hounds, Trudy! Get your hand away from that taser, Officer Roman. You still up for helping me with my makeup, Kim?" she asked looking at the other uniformed officer who was yanking on her partner's arm before he did taser the detective.

"I'll be there, Callahan. 4:30pm, even if I have to leave this one on the side of the road."

"Speaking of which, don't you two have a gun buyback to get to, try to not make it as interesting as the last one," Platt said, giving the two officers a warning look.

She turned, ready to make her way to the door when Erin appeared on the stairs, Hank at her side. "Detective Lindsay, please escort Detective Callahan to wherever she is supposed to be, which I am positive is not here," Voight said, neither his tone nor expression leaving any room for argument.

Erin gave a smirk to both her boss and friend. "Yes, sir, Detective Callahan, this way please," she said, leading the way with her arm.

"You're enjoying this a little too much, Erin."

* * *

"What did you do, wait for us to fall asleep and sneak out?" Shay admonished as Erin shoved her not so gently back into Shay and Severide's loft, where she and Erin had spent the night, Gabby joining them as soon as she got off shift.

"Sorta," Cally admitted. Her mother had been irrationally insistent that she not see Jeff before the wedding, including not sleeping at their place the night before. Cailin was sure her mother was attempting to get her to spend the night at Coleman's, but luckily Shay intervened and offered up her place for both Cally to stay and for them all to get ready.

Christmas Eve turned into an impromptu pseudo-bachelorette slumber party, with a side stop at Midnight Mass to appease Cally and Gabby. Erin, Lindsay, Nadia and Sylvie were all good sports, happy to spend the night with friends, as opposed to moping over ice cream and sappy Christmas movies.

Erin and Cailin had gladly volunteered to hold down the IU fort Christmas Day, alongside Halstead, so everyone else could spend the day with loved ones. Fortunately, it was fairly quiet, with the exception of the guilt calls from the Callahan clan. Voight stopped by more than once, and Cally wasn't quite sure if he was checking up on them or just didn't have anything better to do.

Shay, Erin and Cally stayed up late talking until the other two women sent her to bed teasing that Kim wasn't a miracle worker with make-up. Erin camped out on the living room sofa as though to prevent Cally from sneaking out. Which she probably would have done if Clarke wasn't on a relief shift.

"Cally, you are getting married in a few hours, why were you trying to work? Oh never mind," Shay said, shaking her head.

Gabby intervened, knowing the pressures that Cally was under. "Let her be, Shay, come on Cal, let's get some food in you, can't have you passing out on the altar."

"Yes, please, I am starving, especially since this one wouldn't stop on the way back here," Cally frowned, hitching her thumb toward Erin.

"I was not stopping in the middle of the 'hood for fried chicken," Erin shot back, "with our luck, we would have walked into the middle of a major drug deal or stick up."

Cailin wrinkled her nose, "knew that 'I'm the bride, I get what I want' thing was complete BS."

"Oh so now suddenly you want to be the bride, huh?" Shay teased, getting out a stack of take-out menus, "here, you go, bride's choice, they all know us by name, because I hate cooking and I am pretty sure I've seen Kelly burn water!"

Cailin caught the slight movement of Erin's jaw, wondering if things were really as friendly between the former pair as her fellow detective claimed. Before she could question her about it, Cailin's phone starting ringing, a Rolling Stones tune filling the air.

The other women's eyes darted first to the ringing phone and then to Cailin as she picked it up with a sigh saying, "no mother, I am not at home and I haven't seen Jeff, I swear!" She rolled her eyes and looked at her friends before wandering off to finish her conversation.

She came back, after repeatedly reassuring her mother she was not going to see her fiancée before the wedding, even if he was the person she most wanted to be with at the moment, her friends still looking slightly agape.

"That seriously isn't your mother's ringtone," Gabby said, bursting out into a fit of giggles. "Mother's Little Helper?"

Cally shrugged, "she had six kids, and hasn't murdered anyone, you tell me how she did that without pharmaceuticals. Tell me any of you wouldn't do different."

"No argument here," Erin said, also starting to laugh.

"Me neither," agreed Shay, "I might need Valium for one, let alone six!"

"I might need one to get through the rest of today," Cally said with a sigh, her phone starting to ring again.

* * *

A couple of hours later, after Kim had worked her magic on Cailin's make-up and Nadia had done her hair with a skill she had no hope of ever recreating, it was time to put on the dress. This time, she was ensconced in Shay's bedroom with her mother out in the living room being attend to by Kim and Nadia so no mention of her tattoo could be made. Her bridesmaids finished the buttoning, Shay angling a mirror so she could get a full-length view. Even though she had a final fitting at Valentina's, there was something about her reflection, with Shay excitedly holding the mirror and Gabby and Erin grinning like fools on either side of her that made Cally gasp.

She took in the slight v-neck of the sleeveless gown demurely hinting at her curves, the ivory lace over the champagne silk skimming over her body ending in a scallop hem and the slightest hint of a train. Her friends in similar lace and silk, though in their case navy lace over red silk, each dress a slightly different style to flatter each of their body types and paying homage to both the PD and FD.

"Yeah, girl!" Shay exclaimed.

"Shay, somebody snuck a bride into your bedroom!" Cally said, turning slightly from side to side and feeling the slightest bit of butterflies in her stomach. She was a bride. She never would have guessed that a year ago. Upon returning to Chicago, she was pretty sure she was incapable of feeling anything ever again, let alone true and deep love. But here she was, getting ready to get married to Jeff Clarke.

"Eh, not the first time," Shay said with a wry smile, causing the other women's heads to snap her way. "What? I like to think I prevented a messy and expensive divorce," she said with a full on grin.

"Cally, your bother is here with the flowers," Nadia called up the stairs.

They trooped down the stairs, her friends going first as Cailin carefully descended the staircase, thinking it would be in bad form to break a leg on the way to her wedding. Nadia, Kim, Sylvie, her mother and her brother all fell silent as soon as she became visible. The silence only broken by Mary Margaret's sniffling and rummaging through her purse for a tissue as her waterworks started again.

"Ma, stop it, you don't cry this much at funerals!" Cally sighed, though she still went over and drew her mother into a hug.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," Mary Margaret replied after she had covered her daughter in hugs and kisses and had fawned over her past the point of discomfort. Cally was thankful her co-workers were talented enough to make her hair and make-up Irish mother proof.

"You look great sis," Connor remarked, kissing her on the cheek before handing her a bouquet of deep red roses and creamy gardenias accented by juniper and holly berries. Kim passed out the smaller bouquets of ivory peonies, splashed with holly berries and crowned with evergreen to Erin, Leslie and Gabby.

A strange honk sounded from outside. "Oh, I think our ride is here," Erin said, raising her eyebrows.

"Lindsay, what have you done?" Cally asked, hand going to her hip.

"You'll love it, I promise. The four of us have to get to the church somehow," she replied mischievously.

Everyone clamored toward the door, Shay shoving through saying, "it's my door!" and flinging it open to reveal Antonio Dawson parked at the curb in a 1950's vintage police car.

Cally pursed her lips, fighting back a smile before saying, "damn if you aren't right, Er, I love it!"

"Well we better get on it, then, I'm supposed to make sure you aren't late and I got a Benjamin down on us being on time and I stand to make a bundle."

"Of course there is a betting pool," Gabby replied.

"Let's roll," Cally said, getting snickers from her friends as it was the same thing they all said before a call out.

* * *

Not having the luxury of time for a rehearsal, the wedding coordinator was about having kittens when they arrived, despite them being early. Erin used her negotiation skills and Connor worked his charm to calm the woman down. They milled about in the side vestibule, shielded from the eyes of the rest of the wedding party and the still arriving guests.

Connor adjusted his tie, asking, "did you only ask me to walk you down the aisle because I have a CFD uniform?"

Cally couldn't help but smile, leave it to her eldest brother. "No, Connor, I asked you to walk me down the aisle because you are my big brother, you've always been like a second father to me. Not to mention you & Bridget have an amazing relationship, one of the best; I can only hope Jeff and mine will stay as strong as yours."

"I have a pretty good feeling it will," her brother replied, bumping her lightly with his hip. "Pops would have been proud of you," he said, getting slightly misty.

"For what? I'm just getting married, people do it all the time!" she protested.

"You know what I mean. For everything. He was proud of you, for leaving, becoming a cop, going through what you did, coming home. And he liked Clarke. First time he ever liked any guy you brought around."

"He was a pretty tough sell," Cally said, blinking back her own tears. "Now crack the door, would you? Let's see who the slackers are."

He complied, but only opened a side door the slightest bit so the people gathered wouldn't think they were starting.

Cailin's breath caught in her throat; Jeff standing up at the altar, Kelly next to him, laughing at something Matt just said, Peter rounding out the groomsmen. Cullen was also trying to not laugh, adjusting his collar, one of his last official acts before leaving his vocation, the ultimate wedding gift for his little sister.

Cally cast a glance at Leslie, Gabby and Erin who were making final adjustments, lining up as instructed, readying themselves to walk down the aisle, thankful for having true girlfriends for the first time in her life.

"I can still totally pull a car around," Shay quipped.

"You were the one that suggested this whole big wedding thing!" Cailin protested.

"Oh, not for you, for Clarke," she shot back.

Cally smiled, "I love you Leslie Shay. I love all of you, I hope you know that."

"Back at you, babe," Shay smiled.

"You sure I'm not stealing your spotlight, Gabs?" Cally asked, wrinkling her nose.

Gabby puffed out her cheeks before answering. "6 months difference, different church, different reception, different bride & groom; it's all good, like I've told you how many times?"

"You ready to do this?" Connor asked.

"I was ready the day he proposed, so let's get this show on the road," she said with a broad smile as the coordinator cued the organist.

* * *

**Chapter 40: Love Fire**

Connor drew his sister back as the coordinator flung open the doors, practically shoving Leslie, Gabby and Erin into place. He was determined for her to have her moment, even though she kept insisting she didn't want one. He saw how broken, empty she was when she came back home from New York. He was certain her inner flame had been forever extinguished, that was until she got with her Marine though. And slowly he saw the light creep back into her eyes, except for those few weeks where it went out again, the embers finally catching and she became more of the Cally he remembered. She was still different, forever changed by what she had gone through, but he wasn't worried about her anymore, he knew Jeff Clarke would move mountains if needed to keep Cailin safe and happy. He heard her take in a deep breath, letting it out with a whoosh as Erin, the last before her, started her walk down the aisle.

"You okay?" he asked, taking in the flush creeping into her cheeks.

"A million people staring at me and a high tripping probability, why wouldn't I be okay?" she smirked.

"Well not a million, Cal, and I'll make sure you don't fall," Connor replied with a smile. "Let's go get you married and don't say 'again', dear little sister."

Cally glowered, "I wasn't going to, big bro. Jimmy would want this, I know that without a doubt. So if you don't mind, let's get this show on the road so I can marry my fireman!"

"Alrighty then," Connor said, nodding at the coordinator, who cued the organist.

Cally clung to her brother's arm, the fire-engine red shoes Shay had talked her into higher than she normally wore, but her bridesmaids were all in agreement the added height would look better in photographs.

She gave a silent thanks to Hermann, Mouch, Otis and Dawson for their ushering skills, as both sides of the church were a mix of family: Callahans, CFD, CPD, USMC and other assorted friends. She also offered up gratitude to the church's Christmas decorating committee, decking out the place in gorgeous garlands, big red bows and endless poinsettias. They hadn't had to add a thing. She took in the crowd, all eyes on her as she made her way carefully toward the altar; catching sight of Shay launching a hug at Clarke before going to her appointed spot and Cullen making funny faces at his only sister until she smiled, something he had done most of his life.

Peripherally, she took in all her friends and family, all of them looking beyond happy for her; even her mother was smiling ear to ear through her tears, surrounded by the rest of the immediate Callahan clan.

But her entire world narrowed as soon as her eyes met Jeff's, cutting a dashing and handsome figure in his dress uniform, somehow infinitely more attractive than he was in his tux, and that was saying something. It was like the first night she had met him, all the air escaping her chest, her focus on nothing but him, everything else in the universe ceasing to exist. But this time, it wasn't panic, wasn't a wall of trauma; now it was a flood of love and peace, as everything else just fell away, leaving the only thing that truly mattered to her, Jeff.

* * *

Clarke resisted the urge to look at his watch, his anxiety increasing by the second, Severide, Casey and Mills trying in vain to distract him with teasing. The church was filled, far more people turning out than he expected the day after Christmas, including a few of his Corps buddies and his brother with his family in tow.

He had just let out a long, slow, calculated stream of air when the organ started and the doors opened, his candidate stepping through looking far different than he was used to seeing her. He heard noises from both Matt and Pete, caught the glare from the former to the latter, exchanging his own with Kelly.

Shay practically skipped up the aisle, launching herself at him in a bear hug saying, "we're still going fishing, bud!" Following it quickly up with, "I'm so happy for you guys!"

Gabby made her way to her appointed spot, grinning and giving her lieutenant a thumbs up and yanked Shay to her spot.

He felt Kelly shift beside him, Erin also making her way up the aisle, again looking very different than her normal detective gear. He saw her eyes zero in on his best CFD friend and couldn't help but catch the intensity of the look that in his eyes. Was the other man feeling regret? He had clammed up on the fishing trip after twisting his ankle and it was something that had continued since that girl from Vegas had made her way to Chicago…

Clarke's thoughts cut off as the organ changed to a bigger fanfare, not the standard here comes the bride, which didn't surprise him, but something that definitely announced something momentous.

His world shifted as the doors opened wide, Cailin stepping though clutching her brother's arm. Her smile hesitant at first, but growing wide and genuine. So different from the first time he saw her, but the punch to the gut was the same. As if deep down he had known since that first meeting that they would end up at an altar. She was almost floating, bathed in the soft lights of the church; her dress perfectly skimming her body, somehow incredibly sexy yet demure. Modest but alluring enough to leave him weak in the knees, much like Cally herself.

His eyes met hers, those deep blue pools he knew he wanted to swim in for the rest of his days, her smile growing even wider, making his heart speed up enough that he wondered if Cullen could hear its thundering. He fought down the lump in his throat, feeling the pinpricks of moisture at the corners of his eyes. Reminding himself he was a Marine, a firefighter, a medical student; he was not going to cry at a wedding, even if it was his.

He was vaguely aware of Cullen saying something, prodding him forward to take Cally from her brother, shaking the other man's hand, resisting the urge to draw his bride into his arms and plant one on her.

"Howdy, cowboy," Cally quipped with a wink, landing a light peck on his cheek, though she wanted to do far more.

"Cal, you look, I just," he stumbled over his tongue, until he heard Cullen clear his throat.

"You two wanna join me up here and get married or what?" Cullen asked giving them a look and a Callahan smirk.

The pair quickly immediately complied.

* * *

Cally froze in the doorway, a lump forming in her throat. On the surface, it was still Molly's, the neighborhood pub, their 'place', but it has also been transformed with love and care.

All the regular tables had been moved out, high top cocktail tables in their place, each swathed in navy fabric and topped with someone's turnout boot or helmet as a stand in for vases, the arrangements mirroring the bouquets. The fairy lights had spread from their usual place to covering the entire ceiling and wrapping down the support poles as well as the area Katie, in her chef whites, had commandeered as her own; the food stations filled to the brim with a variety of delectable treats.

She took in the crowd of friends and family in the room, feeling tears of joy prick at the corners of her eyes, happy for Jeff's arm firmly around her waist. So many smiles beamed out at them, even on Hank Voight's face, growing broader still as he and Alvin moved aside so she could see what they had been shielding.

The "cake" table, draped not in lights like the rest of the food tables, but in crime scene tape spelling out "just married" and featuring not a traditional wedding cake but a tower of donuts. The groom's cake beside it a fire engine, its passenger's caricatures of a blonde bride cuffed to a fireman groom.

"What do you know, he does have a sense of humor," Cally quipped after she burst out laughing.

"It was almost cupcakes, but I stopped him," Alvin said as she went over to hug the two senior members of her team.

"Thanks, I think," she said, moving down to hug the rest of IU sans Erin who was hanging back with the rest of the bridal party.

She and Jeff moved about the room, taking in all the embraces and kisses they knew they couldn't escape, the ones they had been steeling themselves for when something struck Cailin. "Uh, babe, should I be worried I am not seeing a DJ?"

"It's fine, Cal, just use Shay's phone, she has a record store on that thing," Clarke replied, hiding his smirk, Hermann's 'wedding gift' still hidden behind the back door.

"True enough, though I don't think record stores actually exist anymore, old man. Speaking of old men, where are Hermann and Mouch and the rest of the guys?"

Clarke shrugged, happy he could do so without the shot of pain in his shoulder. "Probably hiding from their wives. Guess I should how to do learn that." She gave him a look. "Just kidding, babe, only hiding I want to do is with my wife. Speaking of which, think anyone will notice if we sneak out the back?"

"Jeff, we've been here for ten minutes, we are not having the world's shortest reception after all the effort everyone but into this. I don't think I have ever seen Molly's this clean, did you know it had wood floors?" she exclaimed.

"I taught my Candidate a thing or two about scrubbing floors," Clarke replied, "but still, just give me a couple of minutes alone, would you?"

"Fine, but I give you three minutes before my mother sends out my co-workers to find-" she broke off as Clarke pushed open the backdoor.

What had formerly been a defacto storage and junk area that Hermann kept whining about as wasted space, was now a gorgeous courtyard patio; and with the addition of heaters and serious sound-system, also a prime dance floor.

"Happy wedding you two!" Hermann said, pulling Cally in for a hug after once again getting rebuffed by Clarke. "I know I complained a lot about closing for the night and whatnot, but I am glad you two got hitched and are having your reception here."

"Mostly because, as I have been saying for months, you will really increase your revenue with outdoor space when the weather is nice," Mouch interjected.

"Is this the emergency project you guys have been working on for the past couple of weeks?" Cailin asked, taking in the nods from the pair along with Mills, Tony and Capp.

"Tons of fun pouring concrete in a hard freeze," Mills said, hands stuck his pockets, a huge grin belying his complaints.

The IU team came busting through the back door. "Told you three minutes, cowboy," Cally teased as Nadia led her friend to the DJ table.

"Callahan, get your butt back in here so we can toast you!" Voight ordered.

"Well, I wouldn't want to hold up anyone's alcohol consumption," she replied, heading back inside, hand still entwined in Jeff's.

* * *

After countless toasts and hugs and trying to consume some of the delicious food Katie had whipped up, the happy couple was all but dragged out to the back to dance, despite their protesting they weren't bothering with any of the usual reception traditions. In that regard, Voight's prank cake worked in their favor, it was infinitely harder to cut donuts not to mention Adam and Kevin had already half demolished the darn thing.

"Are you happy?" Clarke asked as Cally nestled against him under the canopy of lights, her hair and skin glowing from the lights and the nearby heaters on full blast.

"You really asking that, cowboy?" she smiled, feeling an intoxicating blend of giddy and serene.

"I mean, it's not like the wedding Gabby and Matt are planning," he gestured at the makeshift patio dance floor.

Cally scoffed,"Yeah, well you haven't heard Gabby's complaining." He gave her a look. "Okay, maybe you have…but this is more us, don't you think, Jeff? It's perfect," she smiled up at him, "though I wish I had gotten you on the dance floor earlier."

"I don't really dance, Callahan."

"Could have fooled me," she said, laughing as he dipped her low to the floor, adding after his long kiss, "and that's Mrs. Clarke to you."

"Speaking of which, how long do we have to stick around here?" he asked, giving her a heated look. "We live together, there's nothing you haven't seen before," she protested.

"I've have been on shift and you spent last night with the girls."

"Nice try."

"Can you blame me?" he said, walking his fingertips down the bottoms on her back, stopping at the base of her spine, smiling at the goosebumps he raised on her skin.

"Pretty sure if I was blaming anyone other than you for that, you would kick their ass," she retorted, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

"Assuming you hadn't already arrested him," he replied feeling like everything was exactly as it should be in the world.


End file.
